The Bench Debate

This debate started the moment they sat down.

I’m telling you,” Walter said, squinting at the jogger passing by, “that one right there? She’s wearing socks with sandals. That’s a felony in five states.”



George scoffed. “It’s athleisure, Walter. Get with the times.”


Walter said "it's what?" And crossed his arms. “In my day, we wore real shoes and didn’t look like we rolled out of bed and straight into a marathon.”



“In your day,” George replied, “you wore suspenders to the beach.”


“That was one time, and they were festive!”



They sat in silence for a moment, watching a teenager glide by on an electric scooter.



Walter sighed. “I miss when wheels meant effort. Rollerblading was a commitment.”



George leaned forward, eyeing the scooter. “You just miss your knees working.”


Walter raised a brow. “My knees work just fine. It’s the rest of me that’s given up.”



“Mm-hmm,” George muttered. “Just like your marriage.”



Walter slapped his knee. “Now hold on! That was mutual. We both agreed I was the problem.”



A woman passed by walking a pug in a baby stroller.



Walter pointed. “See?! That’s what I mean. Dogs in strollers. The world’s gone soft.”



George squinted. “Or maybe the dog has arthritis.”



“You aren’t making any sense, George!”



“No, you’re not! You complain about the world changing, but you can’t even change your underwear without calling your grandson!”



They both stared ahead, fuming.



Then George burst into a laugh. “Admit it. You love this. Sitting here judging people like Statler and Waldorf.”


Walter chuckled. “Yeah… I do.”



They watched in silence a bit longer.



“I still say socks with sandals should be illegal.”


“And I still say suspenders at the beach should get you five to ten.”


They grinned at each other.



Some friendships were built on trust.

Others, on very loud nonsense.