Piano Man

This crude, but clever, joke will find its way into my fiction writing some day, in one form or another. I’m not much of a humor writer, but this might be the perfect vignette to set the stage for a transition in a story that needs humor. The joke is not original, but I have made adjustments to it; you know, trying to improve the story.

A man walks into a bar, sits down on a bar stool, and places a small brown bag on the counter next to him. He signals to the bartender.

“Yes sir, what can I get for you?”

“Scotch. Make it a double. Hell, make it three doubles.”

The bartender does as he is asked and watches the man quickly down all three double-shots of Scotch.

The bartender, used to people coming it to drown their troubles, tries to help.

“Hey, pal, you should probably slow down with the double-shots. What’s the matter?”

The man puts his elbows on the bar, buries his head in his hands, and sobs.

The bartender, taken aback by the flood of emotions, tries again.  “Look, sport, in this job, you’ve got to be a good listener and a dispenser of good advice. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can help you.”

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong. I can’t catch a break. Even when things look like they’re going my way, circumstances seem to kick me in the teeth. Here, let me give you an example.”

The man reaches into the brown bag and pulls out a tiny piano. He sets the piano down and reaches back in, this time retrieving a tiny bench. Then he reaches back in and, much to the bartender’s surprise, pulls out a tiny man, no more than a foot tall, dressed in a full tuxedo. He sets the tiny man down. The dapper little gentleman strides up to the piano, pulls out the piano bench and sits down. He then plays some of the most beautiful, uplifting music the bartender has ever heard.

“Where on earth did you get this little guy?!”

“Oh I have a genie.”

The bartender can barely contain his excitement, “You do? Can I see it?”

“Of course, of course,” says the man, drawing an ornately decorated lamp from the bag.

“Here, rub the lamp and, if you’re luckier than I am, the genie will grant your wish.”

The bartender takes the lamp, rubs it, and out pops a genie.

“You have summoned me. What is your one wish sir?”

“I want a million bucks!” The bartender shouts.

Instantly the room fills with quacking ducks. Feathers are flying everywhere and the other patrons begin screaming and running for the doors.

As the ducks fill the room with noise, feathers, and odorous evidence of duck distress, the bartender frantically shouts at the man with the brown bag. “What the hell!? This damn genie must be hard of hearing! I asked for a million bucks, not a million ducks!!”

“No kidding. I mean, do you really think I asked for a 12 inch pianist?”

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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