I ran into this little anecdote again, most of you have probably read
this before, but for those who haven't:
A little girl had been watching a crew of workers build a house on the
lot next to her house. Her nose pressed to the window for most of the
day, the foreman had noticed her and talked to the mother and had her
dress up and come out to 'help' shovel a bit of sand, carry a small
pack of nails, that kind of thing.
At the end of a few days like that, the foreman gave her a pay
envelope, just like the other workers and in it she found a crisp 5
dollar bill.
She wanted her mom to take it to the bank with her and at the wicket,
the teller asked her how she got to get her hands on so much money.
The little girl explained she had 'worked' for it at a construction
site.
When the teller asked her if she was going to work there again next
week, the girl replied: " I will if the sunsabitches from the
lumberyard get the damn material onto the job-site in time."
r
On Jan 30, 9:36 am, "Robatoy" <[email protected]> wrote:
> I ran into this little anecdote again, most of you have probably read
> this before, but for those who haven't:
A variation on the same story:
When I was in the third grade at Holy Family School in Louisville, Ky
they rebuilt Poplar Level Road in front of the school. The school was
not air conditioned (this was 1957) so we had the windows open and
could hear everything the men said. Sister Margaret Spalding became
very concerned at the language the road workers were using and went to
ask the principal, Sister Mary Agnella, if she could talk to the
foreman and ask him to speak to his workmen about their language.
"Now, Sister, I wouldn't worry too much about it. You know those are
just hard working men who call a spade a spade."
"Oh, no they don't," Sister Margart Spalding said. "They call it a
God damned shovel!"