A woman and her son were taking a cab in New York City. It was raining and all the hookers were standing under the awnings.
“Mom,” said the little boy, “what are all those women doing?”
“They’re waiting for their husbands to get off work,” she replied.
The cabbie turns around and says, “Geez lady, why don’t you tell him the truth? They ‘re hookers, boy! They have sеx with men for money.”
The little boy’s eyes get wide and he says, “Is that true, Mom?”
His mother, glaring hard at the cabbie, answers in the affirmative.
After a few minutes, the kid asks, “Mom, what happens to the babies those women have?”
“Most of them become cab drivers,” she said.
When I was single, I never was into the whole bar scene. I just wasn’t very good at it. I never quite mastered the art of the “pick up line.”
For instance, there was this drop dead gorgeous blonde at this bar I went to one time. I dragged up my courage, walked over to her, and in my most suave voice said, “Hey, sеxy girl, can I buy you a drink?”
She diverted her gaze towards me. Gorgeous blue eyes. Beautiful ruby-red lips. Вrеаsтs to die for. She licked her lips and said, “Tell me, do you like sеx?”
Oh my. Better than I could have hoped for. “Yes, I love sеx.”
“Wonderful,” she said, coming a little closer, “Do you like to travel?”
“Oh yeah. I love to travel.”
“Good,” she said, “then fсuк off.”
(This is a true account of my advice to my pre-teen a few years back. We all know, for the most part that 5th grade boys haven’t started to develop, yet they are still proud of their alleged superiority and having “something” that girls don’t have, and ages ten and eleven are among the ugliest ages for taunting and bullying during “recess” and on the school buses.)
So my ten year old confides in me that a group of boys taunt her every day that she is a “Pirate’s Dream,” with a “sunken chest.” So I asked her: “Who is the ‘ringleader?'”
She told me, and I said, “Tomorrow, look him straight in the eye, and respond, ‘You’re a fine one to talk, centimeter peter.’ ”
Two days later, she said, “I did you one better, daddy, I called him ‘millimeter peter’ and all his friends laughed at him as he slunk away in shame.”
She never had any further trouble and by age 16, she had a more than respectable rack.
An award should go to the United Airlines gate agent in Denver for being smart and funny, while making her point, when confronted with a passenger who probably deserved to fly as cargo.
A crowded United Airlines flight was cancelled. A single agent was re booking a long line of inconvenienced travelers. Suddenly an angry passenger pushed his way to the desk. He slapped his ticket on the counter and said “I HAVE to be on this flight and it has to be FIRST CLASS.”
The agent replied, “I am sorry, sir. I’ll be happy to try to help you, but I’ve got to help these folks first, and I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.”
The passenger was unimpressed. He asked loudly, so that the passengers behind him could hear, “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM?”
Without hesitating, the agent smiled and grabbed her public address microphone, “May I have your attention please, ” she began, her voice heard clearly throughout the terminal. “We have a passenger here at Gate 14 WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHO HE IS. If anyone can help him find his identity, please come to Gate 14.”
With the folks behind him in line laughing hysterically, the man glared at the United agent, gritted his teeth and swore “F*** You!” Without flinching, she smiled and said, “I’m sorry sir, but you’ll have to get in line for that too.”