One Saturday, I was working the floor alone and my wife was working the counter. I was draped across the motor, doing some distributor work on an older chevy 4x4 when this beaten up old Ford pickup drove up.
It took nearly ten minutes for him to get to the counter and had to use the counter to hold himself up because I think his Friday night party wasn't over with.
He said, "Where's Bob? I have fifty bucks left in my pocket so Bob can fix my truck. You see, my truck is broken."
My wife was nice and responded, "I'm sorry, Bob is stuck on a job right now but he will help you out as soon as he's clear."
With that, he looked in the shop and saw my legs sticking out from under the hood and with no hesitation, walked into the shop and right up beside me and said "Bob, I have fifty bucks here that says you can fix my truck. It's broken, you know."
I responded "Sorry, but I've been stuck on this job for a little while, but if you take a seat, I should be clear in a few minutes."
There was a pause and then he said cheerfully "I can see you're stuck. Let me help you with that"
Then he grabbed both my legs and started pulling.
It took about fifteen minutes for the police to get there and take him away.
About a half hour later, another old guy comes in and asks "Did you see my friend who owns that truck?"
We explained what happened and he got this worried look on his face and started pacing around in mildly panic thoughts.
We brased ourselves for the many questions we were expecting when he stopped and asked
"Did they take the bottlle?"
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