A sixty-four-year-old man is sitting on a park bench, sobbing when a young man walks by and asks him what’s wrong.
Through his tears, the old man answers,
“I’m in love with a twenty-two-year-old woman.”
“What’s wrong with that?” asks the young man.
Between his sobs and sniffles, he answers,
“You don’t understand, every morning before she goes to work, we make love. At lunchtime, she comes home and we make love again, and then she makes my favourite meal. In the afternoon when she gets a break, she rushes home and gives me make love, the best an old man could want. And then at suppertime, and all night long, we make love.”
He breaks down, no longer able to speak.
The young man puts his arm around him.
“I don’t understand. It sounds like you have the perfect relationship. Why are you sitting here on this park bench crying?”
The senile old man answers, again through his tears, “I forgot where I live.”