ChatterBank24 mins ago
Old People Are Clever
A wise old gentleman retired and purchased a modest home near a middle school. He spent the first few weeks of his retirement in peace and contentment. Then a new school year began.
The very next afternoon three young boys, full of youthful, after-school enthusiasm, came down his street, beating merrily on every dustbin they encountered.
The crashing percussion continued day after day, until finally the wise old man decided it was time to take some action.
The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young percussionists as they banged their way down the street. Stopping them, he said, "You kids are a lot of fun. I like to see you express your exuberance like that. In fact, I used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favour? I'll give you each a pound if you'll promise to come around every day and do your thing."
The kids were elated and continued to do a bang-up job on the dustbins. After a few days, the old-timer greeted the kids again, but this time he had a sad smile on his face.
"This recession's really putting a big dent in my income," he told them. "From now on, I'll only be able to pay you fifty pence to beat on the bins."
“The noisemakers were obviously displeased, but they did accept his offer and continued their afternoon ruckus. A few days later, the wily retiree approached them again as they drummed their way down the street.
"Look," he said, "I haven't received my pension yet, so I'm not going to be able to give you more than Twenty five pence. Will that be okay?"
"Twenty five pence?" the drum leader exclaimed. "If you think we're going to waste our time, beating these bins around for twenty five pence, you're nuts! No way, we quit!"
And the old man enjoyed peace.
The very next afternoon three young boys, full of youthful, after-school enthusiasm, came down his street, beating merrily on every dustbin they encountered.
The crashing percussion continued day after day, until finally the wise old man decided it was time to take some action.
The next afternoon, he walked out to meet the young percussionists as they banged their way down the street. Stopping them, he said, "You kids are a lot of fun. I like to see you express your exuberance like that. In fact, I used to do the same thing when I was your age. Will you do me a favour? I'll give you each a pound if you'll promise to come around every day and do your thing."
The kids were elated and continued to do a bang-up job on the dustbins. After a few days, the old-timer greeted the kids again, but this time he had a sad smile on his face.
"This recession's really putting a big dent in my income," he told them. "From now on, I'll only be able to pay you fifty pence to beat on the bins."
“The noisemakers were obviously displeased, but they did accept his offer and continued their afternoon ruckus. A few days later, the wily retiree approached them again as they drummed their way down the street.
"Look," he said, "I haven't received my pension yet, so I'm not going to be able to give you more than Twenty five pence. Will that be okay?"
"Twenty five pence?" the drum leader exclaimed. "If you think we're going to waste our time, beating these bins around for twenty five pence, you're nuts! No way, we quit!"
And the old man enjoyed peace.
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