Duncan reached through the window and grabbed the knife from the seat of his dilapidated stationwagon. He leaned down, lifted the long hose coiled on the ground near his feet, pulled it onto the hood, and began sawing it with the knife. Only yards away, his wife Rose spread a tablecloth across the roadside picnic table, occasionally glancing up at his theatrics.

After several attempts Duncan finally managed to slice off a section of the hose, leaving deep scratches in the hood. But such minor things didn't matter now. He had a task to accomplish. He lifted the longer piece of hose high into the air and smiled with pride. The section was long enough to go from the exhaust pipe to the interior of his stationwagon. He had measured correctly. 

That's one damn thing he could do right. He could count and measure stuff and jumble endless tables of numbers. Other people's numbers. Their cash flow. Something all his clients had plenty of - the rich jerks. Something he never had enough of. So now this. 

Satisfied with his trite accomplishment, he hopped into the stationwagon, started it, grabbed a roll of duct tape from the seat, and bolted out. He dragged one end of hose to the rear bumper, got down on his back, and slid up next to the oily exhaust pipe. Using his teeth, he cut several pieces of duct tape and stuck them on the bumper, then started gagging from the exhaust fumes. He got up, killed the engine, and returned to the exhaust pipe.

Rose dug through a basket of sandwiches. She grabbed two, turned to him and held them up in the air. He was preoccupied trying to tape the end of the hose onto the exhaust pipe.

          “What do you want, ham or salami?” she asked, ignoring his latest melodrama. 

          “Neither,” he growled as he wiped the grime from his hands onto his pants. “I’m going to succeed this time!”

          “Please, Honey, I just washed those pants yesterday. Now come over here and eat. We’re still six hours from my parent’s house.”

          “You’ll have to drive the rest of the way by yourself,” he gasped, struggling to secure the hose to the exhaust pipe. “And tell them they won’t have to worry about their daughter being married to a measly accountant any longer. In fact, you don’t even have to wash these damn pants ever again. How’s that?”

          Rose smirked, shook her head, and then bit into her sandwich. Duncan got up, grabbed the end of the hose, dragged it to the driver’s door, hopped in, and started the engine. He took a deep breath, then jerked the hose through the window. His tugging caused the end of the hose to slip off the exhaust pipe. “Shit!” he screamed, then killed the engine and got out.

          “Honey, wait until after this trip,” Rose pleaded as Duncan stomped back to reattach the hose. “Please. Otherwise, I’ll have to air the stationwagon out before I can even drive. Then I'll have to stop somewhere along the way and dump your body off. Understand?”       

          “Rose, you don’t even care anymore!” he shouted as he tore more pieces of tape with his teeth. Now about to explode, he struggled to reattach the hose once again.

          “I do care, Duncan. It’s just that I’m tired of going through this. Last time we made plans to visit them and you tried to commit suicide the rope broke, remember? The time before that the gun misfired and scarred up your fingers real bad. I think life’s telling you to accept my family and get over the lack of social status you think your job offers. We do just fine.”

          “It’s more than that, Rose. They’re rich, classy and beautiful. In their eyes I’m nothing but some clumsy, pudgy idiot with thick glasses who stole their daughter from them. And they hate me for that!”

           Rose smiled. “Well, Honey... I don’t. I love you just like you are. Now what will it be, ham or salami?”

Duncan tugged on the hose to see if his hose/ducktape/exhaust pipe problem had been solved. It had not. Again the hose easily slipped off the greasy exhaust pipe. “Shit!” he groaned, then looked up at her. Frustrated, he got up, lowered his head, walked over to her and mumbled, “Salami.”

She kissed him on the cheek and handed him a sandwich. “Extra mayonnaise, just the way you like it.” 

Duncan sat down, and looking disappointed, he bit into the sandwich.

          She smiled and said, “Thanks, Honey.”