THE PHARMACIST AND THE DRUNKARD
In the middle of the night the emergency bell rang at the pharmacy on duty. Grumbling under his breath, the old pharmacist got out of bed, put a dressing gown around his shoulders, slipped into his house shoes and shuffled out to the shop. He opened the wicket and asked:
“Yes, what can I do for you?”
The obviously drunken person on the street said:
“Finally! Do you have some blue ink?”
“Sir, this is a pharmacy. We don’t sell ink here and this is the middle of the night.”
With that, the pharmacist closed the wicket and went back to his interrupted dream. He had barely fallen asleep, when the bell rang once more. He got up again, opened the small window and saw the same man standing there:
“Do you have any blue ink?” - he asked.
“I told you already we don’t have any ink at all,” - said the pharmacist angrily and slammed the window. This time about half an hour passed before the bell rang again. Once again it was the same man, but before the furious pharmacist could utter a word, the drunkard spoke up:
“I know, I know, you don’t have any ink,” - he said and extended his hand with a small bottle in it, - “so I brought you some.”
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