Bob came home looking like he’d lost a fight with a doorknob. His wife took one look at his black eye and said, “Let me guess – another difficult client?”
“You have no idea,” Bob groaned, sinking into his favorite chair. “Got called to the Plaza Hotel today for a deceased guest. The manager said they couldn’t bag him because of… well, let’s call it a structural issue.”
His wife smirked. “A structural issue?”
“Yes! So I go up to the room, and there’s this gentleman lying there looking like he’s at half-mast, if you catch my drift. I figured I’d just… gently encourage things downward to make him presentable.” Bob made a bending motion with his hands.
His wife was now struggling to keep a straight face. “And then what happened?”
“Then the ‘deceased’ sat up and punched me in the face!” Bob exclaimed. “Turns out I was in the wrong room! The actual body was next door, not giving anyone any trouble.” He touched his tender eye gingerly. “I guess that’s what I get for being too enthusiastic about my work.”
His wife couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. “Well honey,” she said between giggles, “at least you know you were really… hands on with the job!”
