Getting an Eyefull

When a fellow piano tuner was ill, I took over his assignment of tuning a piano in a girls’ boardinghouse. While I was at work, several of the girls strolled casually through the room in various states of undress. The climax came when a young lady in startling deshabille appeared to pay the bill.

As I was writing the receipt, she suddenly gave me a bewildered look, then fled, screaming, “That’s not our regular man!”

Their regular man is blind.

 

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