A Farm Story

Speaker Pelosi was being driven back to the airport one dark Northern California night from her vineyard home. Coming around a bend, there was a terrific crash and the car skidded off the road. “What happened?” shouted the Speaker from the back seat. The driver said, “I hit something, it just appeared in the dark. Lemme see what it is.” The driver and the Speaker shortly thereafter stood over the expiring corpse of an cow. “Well, Madame Speaker,” the driver said, “I was raised on a farm, and from the look of this cow she was really, really old and wouldn’t have lived much longer anyway.” He looked up the hill to a small farmhouse. “I guess I’ll go tell those people the news, it’s probably their cow.”

The driver trudged up the hill, and was gone for several hours. Finally he comes back down the hill, inebriated and disheveled. “What happened to you?” screeched the Speaker, now several hours late for her flight. “Why were you gone so long?”

“Well,” began the driver, “I walked up to the door and explained who I was and what had happened. The family really didn’t seem that upset. They invited me in for a bottle of their own wine, which led to another bottle, and then we were hungry and they cooked us a fabulous meal, and since I had killed their cow I didn’t feel I could refuse. While we were eating, their daughter came home. She’s an Oakland Raiders cheerleader, and when they explained who I was she insisted on showing me the room she grew up in. Well, one thing led to another and she was really, really friendly, and how could I refuse?”

“That’s crazy!” shouted the Speaker. “Why would they react like that? What did you tell them?”

“Well, when they answered the door I told them I was Speaker Pelosi’s driver and I had run over the old cow and she was dead.”

Ba-dum-bum!