Man’s sitting in his front room watching the playoff game on TV when the doorbell rings. “Jesus Christ, every goddamn time.” But he gets up and opens the door anyway. A guy is standing there that looks and smells like he hasn’t had a bath for a couple weeks.
“Hey, mister, I hate to ask you this, but you know, I’m really down on my luck, haven’t had a bite to eat since the day before yesterday, I wonder if you can spare a little change to help a guy out.”
“Sorry, I don’t believe in charity. Go on downtown to the St. Vincent DePaul mission, they’ll take care of you.”
“Oh, hey, please, mister, maybe I can do something around here to earn it.”
“Yeah, Okay, I guess if you put it that way. Look, here’s a gallon of green paint and a brush. I want you to go around back and paint the porch. I’ll give you $20 for the job. Sound good?”
It’s like the fifth inning and Lofton’s on third with the tying run when the doorbell rings again. The guy’s standing there, a big smile on his face. “All done, Mister!” he proclaims.
“Wow, that was quick,” the man says, getting out his wallet and pulling out the $20. “Did you have any paint left?”
“Just a little bit,” the guy says. “I cleaned up the brushes and put the paint can by the side of the garage. Listen, mister, I really want to thank you for this. God Bless You, sir. You’re a lifesaver!”
Man’s a little embarrassed now, hands the guy his money. “Here’s an extra $10 for doing that so quickly. My wife will be thrilled when she sees the new paint job.”
“You bet. I’m glad I was able to help out. Feels good to do an honest day’s work instead of just taking a handout. I really appreciate you giving me the opportunity.” The guy turns and heads for the front gate. “Oh, by the way,” he says, stopping and looking back,
“That’s not a Porsche, that’s a Ferrari…”
(Thanks and a tip of the hat to Dennis Smith, who first told me this joke around 1985. It still cracks me up.)
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