Stolen Broken Bowling Balls
(This story belongs to my brother, who is also my manager at the bowling alley where I work. This lady comes in demanding his help.)
Lady: “I need help! My car was stolen!”
Brother: “Your car was stolen?”
Lady: “Yes, come here!”
(They go outside and the lady points to her car.)
Brother: “Um, I thought you said it was stolen.”
Lady: “No, it’s broken! I need your help to fix it.”
Brother: “Well, ma’am, I’m not mechanically proficient. You’re going to need to call someone.”
Lady: “No, I need you to fix it.”
Brother: “Okay, what’s wrong with it?”
Lady: “There’s a bowling ball that is preventing it from starting.”
Brother: “Well… um… Okay, where’s the bowling ball?”
Lady: “In the trunk.”
Brother: “Well, why don’t you open the trunk and get it out?”
Lady: “I don’t know how.”
(My brother then opens the trunk and gets the bowling ball and she gets her “broken car” running.)
Brother: “Will that be all?”
Lady: “No, I want to go bowling.”