ARE THERE ANY BOUNDARIES
TO HUMAN STUPIDITY?
Steve, the building manager said, “I got a call last night at 3:51 a.m. I was thinking it’s a tenant with a ceiling that fell on his head, but no, the guy wanted to rent an apartment. Man, did I light him up. That fool — 3:51 a.m!”
“Was he drunk?” I said.
“No, he wasn’t drunk! He said he had a dilemma. He said, ‘I’m in a dilemma.’ I said, ‘You think so? You also think this is standard business hours, too, or are you trying to get a jump on the market, you idiot!’”
Next subject: “Hey, did Billy give you the rent?” I said.
“Yes, I got the rent from your pal Billy,” Steve said. “Billy? That’s his legal name. What kind of person names his kid Billy.” Billy had flicked cigarette butts out his window onto parked cars below. One night he and his buddies flicked 30 butts. I wrote Billy a letter to straighten up and he did. Don’t knock Billy.
“That guy — calling at 3:51 am,” Steve said. “No, I don’t think so! Are there any boundaries to human stupidity?”
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“Billy” is a pseudonym.
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I wrote this piece, “How Much Money Can I Make Off Trump’s Convention?”, for yesterday’s New York Times online.
4 comments
No, there appears to be no limit to stupidity….
On a different note, officially naming a son Jack seems unusual. However, about the same time your Jack was born another couple we knew also officially named their son Jack.
Must have been a casual air in the wind that year.
Great NYT piece, Bert. Wow, you are the most famous writer I know. When I tell people I have a friend who writes for the NYT I have to explain, “No, he’s not the treasurer’!
As a great aunt said to my father when his brilliant brother died at 43, it really says someone thing when one’s obituary gets into the NYT.
All this Trump hubub – glad to hear you’re making the best of it.
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