Last week five of us travelled to California for business. We had a layover in Phoenix. Once we got the okay to unbuckle and leave our seats, my coworker, Mr. K sprung up from his aisle seat a row in front of me and opened the overhead bin across the aisle from him. He pulled down his bag, and then went to help our associate, Ms. H lift her’s down.
Mr. K: (straining slightly) Gee wiz Ms. H, what have you got up here bricks?
Ms. H: We’re gone for three nights, a lady has got to be prepared.
Mr. K: Holy cow!
Mr. K then proceeded to check his watch, gauging how much time we had before our connection to Burbank.
Mr. K: (to no one in particular) Two hours and fifteen minutes. That’s a long layover.
Me: Actually, it’s only an hour fifteen.
Mr. K: No, it’s two fifteen. Phoenix is in the Western timezone.
Me: They don’t change time like the rest of us. They’re only an hour behind.
Mr. K: Are you sure? I’m pretty sure they’re two hours behind.
An attractive blonde woman in the same row as Mr. K then piped up.
Blondie: (to Mr. K) He’s right (motioning to me). We’re only an hour behind Kansas City.
I smiled to her in a friendly gesture of gratitude. Then I looked at Mr. K.
Me: (pointing to my noggin) Gee wiz Mr. K, what have you got up there bricks?
Mr K. has a great sense of humor and he let out a chuckle. I laughed too, and so did my coworker travel companions. But the blonde woman who’d overheard the entire exchange outdid us all. She let out a belly laugh that would have led you to believe I’d just said the wittiest thing she’d ever heard.
And to the rest of us, that was far funnier than my joke.