The Old Gas Station

Discussion in 'The Lighter Side' started by Glockrunner, Apr 5, 2004.

  1. Glockrunner

    Glockrunner HOOYA DEEPSEA

    Likes Received:
    Sep 10, 2001
    The service station trade was slow.
    The owner sat around,
    With sharpened knife and cedar stick.
    Piled shavings on the ground.

    No modern facilities had they,
    The log across the rill
    Led to a shack, marked His and Hers
    That sat against the hill.

    "Where is the ladies restroom, sir?"
    The owner leaning back,
    Said not a word but whittled on,
    And nodded toward the shack.

    With quickened step she entered there
    But only stayed a minute,
    Until she screamed, just like a snake
    Or spider might be in it.

    With startled look and beet red face
    She bounded through the door,
    And headed quickly for the car.
    Just like three gals before.

    She missed the foot log -- jumped the stream
    The owner gave a shout,
    As her silk stockings, down at her knees
    Caught on a sassafras sprout.

    She tripped and fell -- got up,
    and then In obvious disgust,
    Ran to the car, stepped on the gas,
    And faded in the dust.

    Of course we all desired to know
    What made the gals all do
    The things they did, and then we found
    The whittling owner knew.

    A speaking system he'd devised
    To make the thing complete,
    He tied a speaker on the wall
    Beneath the toilet seat.

    He'd wait until the gals got set
    And then the devilish guy,
    Would stop his whittling long enough,
    To speak into the mike.

    And as she sat, a voice below
    Struck terror, fright and fear
    "Will you please use the other hole,
    We're painting under here"
  2. AMX


    Likes Received:
    Feb 10, 2004
    Vienna, Austria
    But after the first few paragraphs, I thought it was the old "There's no back wall!"
    "Well, the door is closed, and noone will know you from behind, right?"