Ignore Buck's apparent amnesia of how he used to treat you.

"Hi Buck," you say.

Buck claps you on the back and points you towards his wife who has been trailing behind.

"And you remember my wife, Heather," he says.

You smile at her and take the hand extended to you, turn it over and kiss her knuckles.

"Of course," you say, "The matching band always got the best seats when the cheer leaders were performing."

Heather blushes and mumbles something. Buck pounds you again on the back and laughs as if you told a funny joke.

"I'm afraid getting older is on some of us than others. She's not turning the heads like she used to anymore."

"Pretty dully party, don't you think? The boys and I were going to go out to the Flying Squirrel Cabaret to watch...the game. How about you join us?"

Heather looks mortified at being so openly humiliated by her husband.