What a Gullibull!*

I work in construction in NYC, almost always with all men, most of whom are looking for a cheap laugh usually at someone else’s expense. Over the years, I’ve grown accustomed to the usual gags and perpetrated some myself. Oftentimes, we will ask a brand new apprentice to go and ask around for something that doesn’t exist like a sky hook or a bucket of steam. I once sent a gullible young man to the union hall to get a column stretcher. And don’t come back until they give it to you, I admonished. It’s akin to sending a first day freshman to the phantom pool on the third floor of the high school.

Yesterday, I got off two jokes on the assistant super, an unusual feat. Neither joke is mine, but I’ve used them many times over the years. He’s a young fellow, not new to the business, and apparently more innocent than most. We were talking for a bit among a bunch of my crew when I asked him, Do you know where they put the henway?

Huh?

The henway, the henway. What have they done with it? I insisted.

What’s a hen weigh? He fell neatly in my trap.

About 5 pounds, I replied, straightfaced. My men laughed.

Sensing I might get away with it, I got him with the second joke: Jeez, I said. You’re a bit of a rube. You never heard that one before? Here’s a second one; you can use it yourself some day.

Go ahead!

How do you keep an idiot in suspense? I asked, turning to walk away.

I dunno, how?

I kept walking.

*As bugs bunny would say.

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4 thoughts on “What a Gullibull!*

  1. My Dad, age 80, my hero, a retired NYC carpenter foreman in heavy construction, still loves to tease and play jokes with all of us especially his grandchildren. I remember when he asked me as a kid to get a nail and hammer for the lamp and I fell for it. Dad has risked life and limb to save fellow workers from electrocution and other horrors. Today my Dad easily climbs on the roof and is a great help in moving me after divorce with his hand-truck. Because of him, I know there are good genuine hard working playful men in this world.

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