A little humor for Friday

It’s Friday so I thought I would try to think of something funny to write. The following true story also took place on a Friday back when I was a senior in college. Hopefully it shows that although alcohol has had many negative influences in my life it also has its positive attributes (like humor).

A friend of mine named Tim, lived in a big house off campus and he and his roommates were throwing a big party that night. I went over early to help set-up and after a good deal of cleaning, organizing, and drunk-proofing the house, 5 or 6 of us were standing around the keg before people started showing up.

The group was about equally split between those who had been raised Jewish and those of us who were raised Christian so one of the guys (lets call him bill) volunteeres a joke: “A priest and a rabbi are sitting on a bench and a soccer ball rolls by. A young boy runs up, picks up the ball, and runs back to the playing field across the path. The priest leans over to the rabbi and say ‘Hey, you wanna screw that little kid?’ and the rabbi says ‘Sure, out of what?’”

We all give the joke a little chuckle, nod our heads, and most of us forget about it.

Fast forward about 8 hours – the party was a ton of fun and after the keg dried up most of us went bar hopping. At about 4am – and after the equivalent of a full work-day of drinking – Tim and I find ourselves at the only after-hours place we knew. Bill is doing his best to bring home a blonde girl who is way out of his league except for the fact that she is obviously under 21 and he is buying all her drinks. He’s slurring his words and stumbling like a champ, but still trying his little heart out to impress this young lady who is quickly getting fed-up. He’s pulling out all the stops and Tim and I hear him shout

“SO A PRIEST AND A RABBI ARE SITTING ON A BENCH.”

It just so happens that he yells this in that unpredictable moment between songs when a new DJ should have a seamless transition, but instead allows a tiny fraction of silence into the otherwise unbroken wall of sound that is mandatory in bars like this. Bill’s opening line is so clear and so audible that I can see the head of everyone within a 20-foot radius whip around in surprise and anticipation. The blonde barely bats an eyelash, disinterested, but he charges ahead like a bull in a china store.

“and a ball rolls by with a little kid chasing after it and the priest looks at the rabbi and says…uh…uh”

The music has resumed so everyone who heard the initial remark is pushing toward the speaker – trying to get a front-row seat for the impending disaster. The blonde glances at him.

“Oh yeah,” says Bill confidently. “The priest says ‘do you wanna fuck that little kid in the ass,’ and the rabbi says ‘sure but can we steal his wallet afterwards?’”

The blonde looks at Tim and me. We back away. Bill goes home to sleep in the bathtub.