In a cozy beauty parlor buzzing with gossip and laughter, three women chat as curlers spin and dryers hum. The topic? Their husbands—and the mystery that sometimes surrounds them.
“My husband said he was working late at the office,” sighs the first woman. “But when I called… he wasn’t there.”
The others nod. They’ve heard this one before.
“My husband told me he was at his brother’s,” the second chimes in. “But guess what? He wasn’t there either.”
They groan in unison, bonded by suspicion and stories of disappearing spouses.
Then the third woman, quiet until now, smiles slyly and says, “I always know where my husband is.”
The others blink. “Seriously? How?”
She leans in and delivers the punchline:
“I’m a widow.”
