Joe, an avid golf fan, had two tickets for the Masters every year. Upon arriving at the 18th hole, he set up his two folding chairs in the usual spot behind the green, close to where the players walk off. As he sat down, another man came along and asked if anyone was sitting in the seat next to him.
“No”, he says, “the seat is empty.”
“Wow, this is incredible!” said the man, “Who would have a seat like this for the final round of the Masters and not use it?”
He says, “Well, actually, the seat belongs to me. My wife always would come with me, but she passed away. This is the first Masters we haven’t been to together since we got married.”
“Oh … I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s terrible. I guess you couldn’t find someone else? … a friend or relative or even a neighbor to take the seat?”
The man shakes his head.
“No. They’re all at the funeral.”