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Tell me a joke...
- Thread starter Daniel Fernandes
- Start date
The Clever Gentleman and the Bank
An elderly gentleman walked into a bank and approached the teller. Handing over his bank card, he said politely, "I’d like to withdraw $20, please."
The teller barely glanced at him before responding, "Sir, for withdrawals under $200, please use the ATM."
The old man frowned. "And why is that?"
Sighing, the teller slid his card back across the counter. "Those are the rules, sir. If you don’t need anything else, please step aside. There are other customers waiting."
The man paused for a moment, then handed his card back. "Alright, then. I’d like to withdraw all my money instead."
Annoyed but following protocol, the teller checked his account. A second later, her demeanor shifted completely. She leaned in and whispered, "Sir, you have $500,000 in your account. The bank doesn’t keep that much cash on hand. You’ll need to schedule an appointment for such a large withdrawal."
The gentleman nodded. "I see. How much can I withdraw immediately?"
"$5,000 is the maximum per transaction."
Smiling, the old man replied, "Alright, I’ll take $5,000 then."
Now speaking with extra politeness, the teller quickly counted out the cash and handed it to him with a warm smile.
The gentleman took $20, tucked it into his wallet, and then slid the remaining $4,980 back across the counter. "Please deposit this back into my account."
Moral of the story: Never underestimate older folks. They’ve spent a lifetime mastering the game.
An elderly gentleman walked into a bank and approached the teller. Handing over his bank card, he said politely, "I’d like to withdraw $20, please."
The teller barely glanced at him before responding, "Sir, for withdrawals under $200, please use the ATM."
The old man frowned. "And why is that?"
Sighing, the teller slid his card back across the counter. "Those are the rules, sir. If you don’t need anything else, please step aside. There are other customers waiting."
The man paused for a moment, then handed his card back. "Alright, then. I’d like to withdraw all my money instead."
Annoyed but following protocol, the teller checked his account. A second later, her demeanor shifted completely. She leaned in and whispered, "Sir, you have $500,000 in your account. The bank doesn’t keep that much cash on hand. You’ll need to schedule an appointment for such a large withdrawal."
The gentleman nodded. "I see. How much can I withdraw immediately?"
"$5,000 is the maximum per transaction."
Smiling, the old man replied, "Alright, I’ll take $5,000 then."
Now speaking with extra politeness, the teller quickly counted out the cash and handed it to him with a warm smile.
The gentleman took $20, tucked it into his wallet, and then slid the remaining $4,980 back across the counter. "Please deposit this back into my account."
Moral of the story: Never underestimate older folks. They’ve spent a lifetime mastering the game.
BrickHouse
Android Expert
I've closed three accounts due to nonsense like that.
OFF TOPIC (just a little) but if you are eligible to join a credit union, do so. We haven't dealt with a bank in decades: we are members of three credit unions, and each has a distinct advantage over the other two. The rates are competitive and, because they're member-owned, we're treated more like family and not like commodities.
rootabaga
Android Expert
Plus ten.
I keep a small account in a bank because there occasionally a few niceties, like notary services, but my real checking and savings accounts have been in credit unions for longer than I can remember.
Milo Willamson
Android Expert
I call that my Invisible money.
A blonde driving a car became lost in a snowstorm. She didn't panic however, because she remembered what her dad had once told her. "If you ever get stuck in a snowstorm, just wait for a snow plow to come by and follow it." Sure enough, pretty soon a snow plow came by, and she started to follow it. She followed the plow for about forty-five minutes. Finally the driver of the truck got out and asked her what she was doing. And she explained that her dad had told her if she ever got stuck in a snow storm, to follow a plow. The driver nodded and said, "Well, I'm done with the Wal-Mart parking lot, do you want to follow me over to Best Buy now?"
rootabaga
Android Expert
One of my mom's (and my) favorite jokes!
The granddad stayed calm and kept saying in a soothing voice:
“Easy, William, we won’t be long... easy, boy.”
Another tantrum followed and again, I heard him say:
“It’s okay, William. Just a couple more minutes and we’ll be out of here. Hang in there, boy.”
At the checkout, the little rascal started throwing items out of the cart. Still, the granddad kept his cool:
“William, William, relax buddy, don’t get upset. We’ll be home in five minutes, stay cool, William.”
I was genuinely impressed , so I followed them to the parking lot. As he was loading groceries into the car, I said:
“It’s none of my business, but you were incredible in there. I don’t know how you kept your composure the whole time. That boy is lucky to have such a patient granddad.”
“Thanks,” the man smiled. “But I’m William... this little b******* name is Kevin.”
“Easy, William, we won’t be long... easy, boy.”
Another tantrum followed and again, I heard him say:
“It’s okay, William. Just a couple more minutes and we’ll be out of here. Hang in there, boy.”
At the checkout, the little rascal started throwing items out of the cart. Still, the granddad kept his cool:
“William, William, relax buddy, don’t get upset. We’ll be home in five minutes, stay cool, William.”
I was genuinely impressed , so I followed them to the parking lot. As he was loading groceries into the car, I said:
“It’s none of my business, but you were incredible in there. I don’t know how you kept your composure the whole time. That boy is lucky to have such a patient granddad.”
“Thanks,” the man smiled. “But I’m William... this little b******* name is Kevin.”
A cowboy rode into town and decided to stop by the local saloon for a drink.
As it often went in these parts, the locals had a habit of giving strangers a hard time. When he finished his drink, he stepped outside to find his horse had vanished.
Without a second thought, he strode back into the saloon, twirled his gun in the air with ease, and caught it effortlessly above his head, firing a shot into the ceiling.
“Alright, which one of you low-down varmints took my horse?” he bellowed, his voice calm but carrying a dangerous edge. The room fell silent. No one said a word.
He took a slow sip from his beer, then looked around the room with a steely gaze. "I’m gonna have one more drink," he said. "And if my horse ain’t back out there by the time I finish, I’m gonna do what I had to do in Texas. And believe me, I don’t like doing what I had to do in Texas."
The locals shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting between each other. The cowboy finished his beer in silence, then strolled out of the bar.
To his surprise, his horse was waiting for him by the hitching post, as if nothing had ever happened. He saddled up, gave the crowd one last look, and started to ride out of town.
As he was leaving, the bartender walked out to ask, “Hey, partner, before you head out, what exactly did you have to do in Texas?”
The cowboy turned in his saddle, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I had to walk home,” he said with a wink.
As it often went in these parts, the locals had a habit of giving strangers a hard time. When he finished his drink, he stepped outside to find his horse had vanished.
Without a second thought, he strode back into the saloon, twirled his gun in the air with ease, and caught it effortlessly above his head, firing a shot into the ceiling.
“Alright, which one of you low-down varmints took my horse?” he bellowed, his voice calm but carrying a dangerous edge. The room fell silent. No one said a word.
He took a slow sip from his beer, then looked around the room with a steely gaze. "I’m gonna have one more drink," he said. "And if my horse ain’t back out there by the time I finish, I’m gonna do what I had to do in Texas. And believe me, I don’t like doing what I had to do in Texas."
The locals shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting between each other. The cowboy finished his beer in silence, then strolled out of the bar.
To his surprise, his horse was waiting for him by the hitching post, as if nothing had ever happened. He saddled up, gave the crowd one last look, and started to ride out of town.
As he was leaving, the bartender walked out to ask, “Hey, partner, before you head out, what exactly did you have to do in Texas?”
The cowboy turned in his saddle, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“I had to walk home,” he said with a wink.
Milo Willamson
Android Expert
My wife has these days when she wants "us to talk about things". We were discussing aspects of our future so when it was my turn I asked her "What will you do if I die before you do?”
After some thought, she said that she'd probably look for a house-sharing situation with three other single or widowed women who might be a little younger than herself, since she is so active for her age.
Then she asked me, "What will you do if I die first?”
I replied, "Probably the same thing."
After some thought, she said that she'd probably look for a house-sharing situation with three other single or widowed women who might be a little younger than herself, since she is so active for her age.
Then she asked me, "What will you do if I die first?”
I replied, "Probably the same thing."
A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old canons and laws of the church, by hand.
He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original manuscript.
So, the new monk goes to the Old Abbot to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small error in the first copy, it would never be picked up! In fact, that error would be continued in all of the subsequent copies.
The head monk, says, "We have been copying from the copies for centuries, but you make a good point, my son."
He goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held as archives in a locked vault that hasn't been opened for hundreds of years.
Hours go by and nobody sees the Old Abbot. So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him. He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing.
"We missed the R!
We missed the R!
We missed the bloody R!"
His forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying uncontrollably.
The young monk asks the old Abbot, "What's wrong, father?"
With a choking voice, the old Abbot replies, "The word was CELEBRATE!"
He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original manuscript.
So, the new monk goes to the Old Abbot to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small error in the first copy, it would never be picked up! In fact, that error would be continued in all of the subsequent copies.
The head monk, says, "We have been copying from the copies for centuries, but you make a good point, my son."
He goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held as archives in a locked vault that hasn't been opened for hundreds of years.
Hours go by and nobody sees the Old Abbot. So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him. He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing.
"We missed the R!
We missed the R!
We missed the bloody R!"
His forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying uncontrollably.
The young monk asks the old Abbot, "What's wrong, father?"
With a choking voice, the old Abbot replies, "The word was CELEBRATE!"