The white businessman goes in for a black handshake; the black businessman goes in for a normal handshake.
The world holds its breath.
Everyone stands in silence, waiting to see what’ll happen.
THEY LAUGH AND FIST BUMP.
RACISM IS OVER.
EVERYONE CHEERS AND RUNS INTO THE STREETS.
NELSON MANDELA SILENTLY WIPES A TEAR FROM HIS CHEEK, AND PASSES AWAY WITH A SMILE.
Co-worker: I think I’ll just stick a glass of wine for myself on table 34′s tab.
Me: Well, that’s not very nice.
Co-worker: It’s fine, they’ll never know.
Me: And an old man with severe Alzheimer’s wouldn’t know who his grandkids were; but that doesn’t mean I should murder them.
After months of waiting in the lonely mire of medieval England, the elated young Duke finally received word from his distant beloved. A letter; a reply, no doubt, to the words he’d sent out many moons before, delivered via carrier pigeon.
He opened it with haste.
‘Mmm… then what, baby?’