Page 3 of Just Another Silly Love Song
He lost his smile. “I was analyzing the Weeklies that came in yesterday and they’re not looking very promising.”
The “Weeklies” that Kyle mentioned were the ratings that were delivered once a week. Ratings are the lifeblood of any radio station.
“We can wait until you get off the air,” Kyle added. “I’ll see you in a few.” He ducked back out of the studio.
That didn’t sound positive at all.
The fact that Kyle said the ratings weren’t looking very promising wasn’t good. They had been gradually trending lower over the last few months.
The warning light flashed in the studio, letting me know there were ten seconds left on the last commercial in the set, which meant ten seconds before I needed to put the next caller on the air.
I snatched my headphones, slid them back over my ears, and pressed the microphone button after the commercial ended. “You’re listening to Dr. Tough Love and we have time for one more call. Jake from Solana Beach, you’re on the air.” I clicked the button for line two.
“Hi, Dr. Tough Love,” Jake said. “Thanks for taking my call.”
“My pleasure. What’s going on?”
“Well . . . I really hope you can help me. My wife has been giving me the silent treatment.”
“Uh-oh. Sounds like you’re in the doghouse. What did you do?”
“I have absolutely no clue. And how can I find out if she won’t talk to me? Anyway, I really need to fix this. Knowing she’s not happy causes me a great deal of stress.”
“Your wanting to make things right is a good thing. So, let’s see if we can figure this out. How long has the silent treatment been going on?”
“It started two weeks ago.”
“That’s nuts! Did you check for a pulse? Maybe she’s dead.” I chuckled and sat up straight in my chair, adjusting the microphone. “Seriously, you have a big problem on your hands if this has been going on that long. One of the secrets of successful relationships is straightforward communication to convey your feelings and thoughts. When you don’t talk about things, the relationship is doomed. Let’s get to the bottom of this and try to get you back on the right track. Take me back to when this all started. Can you remember the exact day or moment when something seemed off?”
“That’s easy—it was her birthday.”
“Good. Give me the play-by-play. What happened that day?”
Jake let out a frustrated breath. “Okay, we stayed in and I cooked her favorite meal for her, fettuccini alfredo. I put on her favorite music, even lit some candles. She seemed fine then. She even smiled many times and thanked me for a romantic birthday dinner.”
“Okay—then what?”
“Well, after dessert I gave her a gift, and then we watched a movie. It was in bed that night when I noticed something was really wrong. I thought maybe it was the movie, but how can an Adam Sandler flick put you in a bad mood?”
“Good point. So, it happened before that. What did you have for dessert?”
“The dessert was her very favorite, a chocolate sundae with a cherry on top.”
“And her birthday gift? What did you get her?”
“It couldn’t have been that, because it was the number one item on her wish list on Amazon. That’s why none of this makes sense to me.”
“Just out of curiosity, what was at the top of her wish list?”
“A vacuum cleaner. It’s state-of-the-art and the latest—”
“No!” I gasped and jerked my head back. “Please tell me you didn’t get her a vacuum cleaner for her birthday, Jake. Please, God, no.”
“It’s what she wanted!”
“I don’t care! Never, never, never,evergive a woman a vacuum cleaner as a gift for her birthday, for Christmas, for your anniversary, Valentine’s Day, or on any day that ends in Y! And the same goes for pots and pans, exercise bikes, and self-improvement books. And don’t even think about an anti-aging cream that she didn’t ask for.”
“I don’t get it. She had been raving about that vacuum cleaner for months.”
