"Sandra, I don't fit in with these people." Gerry moaned as they walked into the Wimbledon final court.
"These were not easy tickets to get so grin and bear it. Anyway you love Wimbledon when you're at home. You're constantly shouting at the TV."
"It's not the same."
"You go and watch football games." Sandra pointed out.
"That's different; you're encouraged to make a lot of noise there. This is more formal."
"You clap when it's a good hit or when a point is won and then at the end you can cheer. Just sit down and shut up because they're coming out."
"Sandra what are you doing? Djokovic won the point."
"Yeah I know, I want Djokovic to win."
"What?! Murray is British! This is his year!"
"I'm sorry but Djokovic is better looking and I think Andy Murray seems a bit grumpy."
"Oi, you're with me and grumpy is sometimes best as proved by Jack."
"I wouldn't stand a chance with him Gerry, and he wouldn't with me because I love you. Ooh! Djokovic won another point!"
"Murray will win this, if I was a gambling man I'd put money on it."
"It's a good job you aren't then because you'd lose it all when Murray loses."
"Oh Sandra, for a smart woman you do lack sense."
"That was obvious from the moment I began dating you."
"I'm not that bad and I've not led you astray yet."
"It's the yet that worries me."
"The best man won, I think you owe me a pint darling." Gerry said as they walked out of the venue hand in hand.
"Yeah I well I don't agree, your shouting probably put Djokovic off."
"Yeah well I was getting into it, I was enjoying it like you told me too."
"I won't say that in the future and yeah let's go for a drink."
