Harold, Marty and Murray were sitting on a park bench one morning as they always do, drinking their coffee. Suddenly a Rolls stopped before them, and stood for a while. Then a well-dressed man came out of the car, and asked for Marty Spencer.
Then Murray asked, “Who wants to know?”
The man said, “Bill Harrow.”
When Murray responded with, “Bill Who?,” the man said, “That’s not important. I just want to talk to Marty. Say you in the middle—you never looked at me since I got out of the car, so you must be Marty.”
Marty said, “Why you say that?
The man replied, “Cause I think you know who I am.”
“No sir, I never saw you before.”
The man said, “That’s right.” Then he asked, “Do you remember Doris Simmons?”
Then Marty said, “Doris from 138th Street? Yes, I knew her about 40 years ago. I haven’t seen her in so long.”
“Ha-ha,” the man laughed. “Well, Marty Spencer,” the man held his hand out for a handshake, “pleased to meet you finally. My name is Bill Spencer, your son. Doris, my mother, is sitting in the car. Come here, Mama.”
After a couple of seconds the Rolls Royce door opened, and a woman appeared in a long dress with diamonds around her neck and a large diamond on her wedding ring finger. She also had a white turban-like hat on her head.
She stood erect, and Bill said, “Mother, this is my father.”
She said, “I know.” Then she started, “You dirty son of a….”
Then Bill said, “Mother, watch your tongue. We spoke of this before. We will be civil to each other.”
Then an unusual thing happened. She clasped her hands, as if she were praying. Then she bowed before Marty, and said, “Please forgive my outburst. I apologize for my error in judgement. Please forgive me.”
There is more to this story. If you believe it.
by George Cousins