A Modern Day Fable

A waiter was talking trash out to the dumpster when he spotted something shiny in the bushes.

“Hmmm…” he thought. “There is something shiny in the bushes.”

So he went over to the something shiny in the bushes and discovered it to be a magic lamp. Well, he didn’t know it was a magic lamp at first, I mean he is looking at it, and it’s that typical Aladdin-looking magic lamp type thing, so he assumes it’s a magic lamp, or a movie prop of a magic lamp, but none-the-less it actually turns out to be a magic lamp. Cool.

“Hey, a magic lamp!” the waiter says.

The waiter rubs the side of the lamp with his apron. Suddenly smoke billows out from the spout of the lamp…which raises a question. How effective are these lamps anyway? Where does the light come out of? If I am in a dark cave and all I have is one of these ‘magic lamps’, am I screwed? Does it take a 40 watt bulb? They look more like something a stoner would use as oppose to a viable light source.

Anyway a genie appears.

The genie says,

“I will grant you one wish!”

“One wish?” says the waiter puzzled. “What happened to three?”

The genie replies,

“We are union now. I grant one wish, otherwise you have to pay me double-triple wishes back, which I know you don’t have being a mere mortal. So one it is. Take it or leave it. I don’t care I get paid either way.”

“OK, OK,” the waiter says. “I’ll take it. Do I have time to think?”

The genie replies,

“You have two fifteen minute time periods to think as by union.”

So the waiter takes two fifteen minute time periods, back to back, mind you, to think. He scrunches his face hard, he puts his hand under his chin, he scratches his groin, he puts out his lower lip out. Finally a thought enters his head.

“OK, I’m ready, ” the waiter says.

The genie puts down his Runner’s Weekly magazine, which is funny because he has no legs, you know his torso is just a smoke tail, typical genie looking thing.

“Go ahead,” the genie says. “Word of warning, be very specific.”

“OK, ” says the waiter. “I want to be paid, tax free, for the rest of my life, one million dollars a week, pay day every Thursday. Is that specific enough?”

The genie laughs. Why do genies always laugh? Even when nothing funny is said? Must be a race thing.

“Your wish will be granted, however due to the Genie Union, I can not grant the part about the rest of your life. Overtime you know. You must restate your wish, with a time frame of no more than 5 years.”

“Huh,” the waiter said. Still pretty good though. Five years at a million dollars a week, at 52 weeks a year…oh forget the math…still good money.

The waiter clears his throat and says,

“I want to be paid, tax free, for 5 years, one million dollars a week, pay day every Thursday.”

“Done!” says the genie.

“That’s it?” asks the waiter. “No sparkly magic, no bright lights, no swirling colors?”

“That’s it,” says the genie. “Today is Tuesday, in two days you will see the money in your bank account.” Then the genie smokes himself back into the lamp.

Suddenly a bus some manic planted a bomb on, that can not go below 50 mph or the bus will explode killing everyone inside, runs over the waiter and kills him and flattens the lamp killing the genie also.

The End