Wolfe’s Woofer: Birth Control

Sunday, May 27th, 2018

“Hey, Mario, you want to play some darts?”
“I can’t right now, Cindy,” Mario said. “We waiting for Juan to get here so we can play our tournament.”
“Next time, then.”
“O.K.”
Mario, Vernon, Juan and I meet at the bar once every week for what we call our darts tournament. The loser buys the drinks.
“Cindy is a strange name for a guy,” I said. “Is that his real name?”
“It’s Sindy with an S,” Vernon said. “It’s a joke in Spanish. You see how he doesn’t have any teeth in front? He got them knocked out playing football. Now, you see why we call him Cindy?”
“No.”
Mario said, “Sin, in Spanish, means without. Dientes means teeth. Sin dientes means toothless but we just shortened it to Sindy.”
Just then, Juan came rushing in and he was obviously furious about something.
“That’s it,” he said. “I’m getting a divorce.”
“Whoa!” I said. “Don’t rush things. Are you and your wife fighting about something?”
“Not yet. But when she gets home, me and her are going to go a round or two.”
“What do you mean when she gets home?’ Vernon asked. “Where is she?”
“She’s at her Ma’s house in Cayo this week.”
“What are you so mad about?” Mario asked.
“I was looking for my darts and I ran across a little bag with Lupe’s birth control pills. She knows she’s not supposed to use them things. This the last straw. We getting divorced.”
I said, “Juan, are you sure you want to leave your wife over something that only the church considers to be a sin?”
“It ain’t because I’m worried about sin,” he said. “It’s because I had a vasectomy five years ago.”

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