There’s this guy that I’ve run into a number of times on the street. He never thinks twice about coming up to me [Josh] and giving me his little act. Here goes…

—- Two months ago. —-

Man: [Walking with me down the street] “Hey, hey, how’s it going? What’s happenin’ man?”
Me: “Not too much, thanks.”
Man: “Hey, those are some nice shoes. You know what? I bet I can tell you where you got those shoes?”
Me: “Oh yeah? Where?”
Man: “You got ‘em on your FEET!”
Me: “Oh you got me good. Thanks. Listen, sorry but I’ve gotta run.”

—- Three weeks later. —-

[Same guy, same act. Me alone again. Story picks up at the "shoes" question]

Me: [laughing to myself]
Man: “Hey don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t — I can tell you where you got your shoes!”
Me: “I can to. I got ‘em on my feet.”
Man: [bewildered. an "oh-my-goodness-whoops-i've-played-this-guy-before" look on his face] “Ok, Ok, Ok, here’s another one. What’s the best nation in the world?”
Me: “Hmm…. best nation. I don’t know, what’s the best nation in the world?”
Man: [Silly grin on his face now -- "Got him!"] “Donation — thats the best nation”
Me: “Thanks, but I have no cash with me. Sorry.”

—- Last week. —-

[Lauren with me this time. I see him walking up to us. Oh boy. The man goes through his act.]

Me: “On my feet!” (Wham!)
Man: [bewildered]
Me: “I know… Donation (Bam!). And hey I’ve got one for you this time.”
Man: [_really_ confused look on his face]

*At this point my mind went blank as I tried to remember this little joke that Lauren’s dad used to tell — the perfect would-be retort for this guy on the street.

Me: [nudging lauren] “What is it?”
Lauren: [looking at man] “I bet I can tell you how many kids your dad had.”
Man: [totally confused] “How many?”
Me: “None. Your dad didn’t have any. Your mom did.” [smiles -- success!]
Man: “what?”
Me: [repeat punchline]
Man: “Hey that’s not funny man, my mother is dead.”
Lauren and I: [oh no, he think this is a "mom joke" -- ABORT! ABORT!]
Me: “Sorry man we gotta go, take it easy.”

So thats it . . . the same guy on the street walking with me/us each time down the sidewalk with the same act. We thought we’d have our turn, and we took it — but he thought we were making fun of his mother when we were really only just stating a fact. Alas!