Just Another Silly Love Song - Rich Amooi Page 0,1
nodded, thinking about it. “Ahhhh . . . okay. Now, I understand. You’ve been getting together with her behind your ex-wife’s back, and now you want me to tell you there’s nothing wrong with that. Am I close on this one, Dennis, or am I right on the money?”
“You nailed it, as usual.”
“And you don’t think your ex-wife will have a problem with you nailing her mom?”
“Well . . .”
I sighed and shook my head. “Have you thought about how this would affect the relationship between your ex and her mom?”
“They were not that close to begin with.”
“And what is this supposed to do? Bring them closer together? Tea parties, Sunday brunches, and wine tasting with mom and daughter where the two of them celebrate your unexpected, newfound love and how much they didn’t realize they had in common? Maybe they could discuss how big or small Dennis Junior is and your performance in the sack.”
“I—”
“And another thing . . . where is the father-in-law during all of this?”
“Oh, I don’t have to worry about him. He’s dead.”
I shook my head in disgust. “You’re a class act, Dennis. The question is, are you going to continue to exhibit a lack of intelligence and tact, or will you realize that having a relationship with her mom is completely wrong and borderline disgusting?”
“It’s not like that at all. She’s a special lady and I think—”
“You’re not thinking! You’re still trying to convince me that there’s nothing inappropriate about your behavior. You will be an idiot for the rest of your life, obviously. Stay on the phone so I can have my producer get your mailing address.”
“What for?”
“I’m going to send you a free self-castration kit.” I disconnected the call. “You’re listening to Dr. Tough Love and we’ll be back right after this.”
I tapped the button to start the commercial, turned off the microphone, and removed my headphones, setting them down on the console.
The studio door swung open.
Kyle Jacobs, the new program director of the radio station, entered. He must have been half my age, with an IQ to rival Einstein. He knew a lot about the radio business for someone so young and had risen up through the radio industry ranks rather quickly because of his ability to analyze data and ratings.
What ticked me off was the way he nitpicked my show to death, even though I had decent ratings. I had gotten to where I was without the help of someone who wore Harry Potter T-shirts and flip-flops to work, thank you very much.
“Good one about the self-castration kit.” Kyle grinned. “Can you come see me after the show?”
“Yeah, sure.” I studied him for a moment. “Is everything okay?”
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