We were standing in line at a fast food establishment the other day when the guy ahead of us told the clerk that his name was ‘Joe’ when she asked. That reply reminded me of the following.
Joe is visiting St. peter’s square in Vatican City when he hears that the Pope is inside the church greeting visitors personally. He rushes to get in line.
While he’s waiting, he sees a raggedy, foul-smelling bum in line ahead of him. Joe sees the Pope greet the man with an embrace rather than the handshake he’d been giving everyone else. “Boy, would that be something,” Joe muses. “I wonder how I could get the Pope to hug me so that I could tell the folks back home about it.”
Soon enough, Joe comes up with a plan. He gets out of line and goes into the square. There, he tears his clothes, rolls around on the pavement, and rubs dirt and pigeon droppings on himself until he resembles (and smells like) the bum that the Pope hugged. He goes back inside and returns to the line.
Sure enough, when his turn comes, the Pope doesn’t just shake his hand, he pulls Joe to him in an embrace. And there, arms around each other and cheek to cheek, the Pope whispers in Joe’s ear, “I thought I made it very clear to you before, get your smelly ass out of here.”
Keep your fork