No Longer Your Consolation Prize

The night before we were set to sign our marriage license at City Hall, my friends threw us a party. They insisted on playing a "Life's Mystery Box" game.

The women each put a mystery gift into identical boxes, to be randomly drawn by the men.

They all insisted this was the fairest way to play.

But when I opened my box, there was nothing inside but a thin slip of paper:

"Thanks for playing."

The entire room went quiet for a fraction of a second, and then someone snickered.

My fiancée, Lara, reached over and casually straightened my collar.

"Still no luck, I see."