It started like any ordinary phone call—a wife checking in with her husband. Or at least, that’s what everyone thought.
Husband: “Hello?”
Wife: “Honey, it’s me. Are you at the club?”
Husband: “Yeah.”
Wife: “Perfect! I’m at the mall just two blocks from you. I just found the most gorgeous mink coat. It’s stunning. Can I buy it?”
Husband: “How much?”
Wife: “Only $1,500.”
Husband: “If you like it that much, go ahead.”
The guys around him chuckled. Generous man, they thought.
But she wasn’t done.
Wife: “Oh, and I stopped by the Mercedes dealership to look at the new models…”
Husband: “The what?”
Wife: “The Mercedes! You know—the silver one I’ve always wanted with the cream interior. They’re offering me a special price today.”
Husband: “And that price is…?”
Wife: “Only $85,000. Isn’t that amazing?”
The husband exhaled like he was bracing for impact.
Husband: “Well… if you really love it… sure. Just make sure it has all the options.”
The guys’ eyes widened. All the options?
But the call still wasn’t over.
Wife: “Honey… one last thing. Remember that beachfront house we looked at last month? The one with the huge windows and the garden?”
Husband: “…Yes.”
Wife: “It’s back on the market! They dropped it to $950,000. Should I put in an offer?”
There was a long silence. Some muffled yelling in the background.
Then:
Husband: “Fine. But offer nine hundred thousand. Not a dollar more.”
Wife: “You’re incredible! I love you sooo much!”
Husband: “Yeah, yeah… just don’t buy anything else today.”
Wife: “Never!”
She hung up.
The man slowly lowered his phone. His friends stared at him like he’d just donated a kidney.
“Dude,” one finally said, “your wife is going to lose her mind. You’re actually buying all that stuff?”
The man took a slow, satisfied sip of his drink.
A smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.
“Of course not,” he said.
The table went silent.
“What do you mean… not your wife?” another asked.
He leaned back, cool as ever.
“I mean,” he said, “some random woman called the wrong number and thought I was her husband. So I figured… why ruin her performance? I let her talk herself into mink coats, Mercedes, beachfront houses—whatever she wanted.”
The guys erupted—laughing so hard they nearly spilled their drinks.
“So what’ll happen now?” someone asked between laughs.
He shrugged. “No idea. She’s probably still waiting for the money. Meanwhile”—he raised his glass—“I just enjoyed the show. And saved myself a million dollars.”
Glasses clinked. The laughter rolled on. And the man, now practically a legend at the table, took another sip with a grin that said game over.
One friend leaned in and whispered:
“Man… you’ve got to teach me how to do that.”
He winked.
“Rule number one,” he said. “Always let them do the talking.”