A small seventeen-year-old boy who works part-time at Pizza Hut shows up one day in his exquisite Porsche. His folks are taken aback by the lavish vehicle and immediately inquire as to how he acquired it.
His parents ask, “Where did you get that car?” after being astounded by what they witness.
Casually, the adolescent remarks, “I bought it today.”
His mother asks, “Young guy, with what money?,” looking quite worried. We know how much a Porsche costs, so you can’t afford one!
“Well, it’s used, and I got a good deal,” the boy clarifies. I just paid $20 for this one.
His mother exclaims in disbelief, “Who on earth would sell a car like that for 20 dollars?”
“The woman up the street,” the boy responds. Her name escapes me, as she moved in not too long ago. She asked if I would like to spend $20 on a Porsche after I handed her the pizza she had ordered.
Unable to control their outrage and curiosity, the boy’s parents race over to the new neighbor’s house ready to make an explanation demand. They are taken aback to find their new neighbor in her front yard, quietly arranging flowers.
The father boldly approaches her and says, “I’m the father of the kid you just sold a sports car to for $20.” I need you to give me an explanation.
Still planting, the woman looks up and says calmly, “Well, this morning, I received a phone call from my husband.” I thought he was in Florida on a business trip, but it looks he left for Hawaii with his secretary and isn’t coming back.
The mother responds, obviously confused, “What on earth does that have to do with selling our son a Porsche for $20?”
The new neighbor pauses for a bit before answering, grinning widely, “Well, my husband asked me to sell his new Porsche and send him the money.” So I did.