DEAR ABBY: My husband knows I'm writing to you. I've never written before, but this is so ridiculous I have to share it. However, because it's a story I can't repeat openly, don't use my name.
One evening last week, my husband sheepishly asked me if the city refuse collectors had picked up the garbage yet. It seems that while cleaning out his top dresser drawer, he had mistakenly thrown away a pill bottle that contained his remaining two Viagra.
He went to the curb and dragged the garbage can back into our yard. We then put on our rubber gloves and went to work. After rummaging through coffee grounds, chicken bones, orange peels and used facial tissue, we found nothing. It turned out he hadn't thrown away the Viagra -- just pushed the bottle to the back of the drawer.
Can you think of a less romantic way to spend the evening? -- THE BLUE PILL "MYSTERY"
DEAR "MYSTERY": Not really. However, even if "Dumpster diving" is not your idea of foreplay -- you now appreciate how far your husband is willing to go for a night of lovemaking with you.