There is a knock on St. Peter’s door. He looks out and a man is standing there. St. Peter is about to begin his interview when the man disappears.
A short time later there’s another knock. St. Peter gets the door, sees the same man, opens his mouth to speak, and the man disappears once again.
“Hey, are you playing games with me?” St. Peter calls after him.
“No,” the man’s distant voice replies anxiously. “They’re trying to resuscitate me.”
As I was driving home from work one day, I stopped to watch a local Little League baseball game that was being played in a park near my home. I sat down behind the bench on the first-base line and asked one of the boys what the score was. “We’re behind 14 to nothing,” he answered with a smile.
“Really,” I said. “I have to say you don’t look very discouraged.”
“Discouraged?” the boy asked with a puzzled look on his face. “Why should we be discouraged? We haven’t been up to bat yet.”
We went to breakfast at a restaurant where the ‘seniors’ special’ was two eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast for $2.99. ‘Sounds good,’ my wife said. ‘But I don’t want the eggs.’ ‘Then, I’ll have to charge you three dollars and forty-nine cents because you’re ordering a la carte,’ the waitress warned her.
‘You mean I’d have to pay for not taking the eggs?’ my wife asked incredulously. ‘YES!!’ stated the waitress. ‘I’ll take the special then,’ my wife said. ‘How do you want your eggs?’ the waitress asked. ‘Raw and in the shell,’ my wife replied. She took the two eggs home and baked a cake.
The local bar was so sure that its bartender was the strongest man around that they offered a standing $1000 bet: The bartender would squeeze a lemon until all the juice ran into a glass, and hand the lemon to a patron. Anyone who could squeeze one more drop of juice out of the lemon would win the money.
Many people had tried over time (professional wrestlers, longshoremen, etc.), but nobody could do it.
One day this scrawny little man came in, wearing thick glasses and a polyester suit, and said in a tiny, squeaky voice, “I’d like to try the bet.”
After the laughter had died down, the bartender agreed, grabbed a lemon, and squeezed away. Then he handed the dried, wrinkled remains of the rind to the little man.
But the crowd’s laughter turned to total silence as the man clenched his fist around the lemon and SIX drops fell into the glass.
As the crowd cheered, the bartender paid the $1000, and asked the little man, “What do you do for a living? Are you a lumberjack, a weight lifter, or what?”
The man replied, “I work for the IRS.”