I Have A Rock In My Shoe

I’m at work, I’ve got something in my shoe. I’m thinking it’s a rock. Well…a pebble. I’m not sure if it’s in the shoe, or in the sock.

Problem is, I’m kinda busy. Every time I think, ok, I’m going to reparate the situation, another customer comes stumbling up.

Ok maybe not stumbling. Just first word to come to mind.

Guy comes up, says, can I get a dirty Tanqueray martini, and a Cucumber Number?

I say, you bet. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to get this rock out of my shoe, before I make them for you.

He stares at me with a quizzical look. I just stare back.

‘Cause, why not?

Finally, when he sees I’m not saying anything more, he says,

Are you serious?

I say, yes, I’m very serious. I have a rock in my shoe.

He says, yeah! Go for it.

I go sit down, take off my shoe, shake it out, put it back on.

There. Better.

Then I go make his martinis.

rock-of-gibraltar

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