Sleeping around

We just finished a hot Friday of the state track meet. The team now in their rooms under the watchful eyes of my  assistants, I made the yearly pilgrimage down to the hotel’s lounge where all of us ‘old dogs’ told and listened to old track stories.

Toward the end, I was asked if we were staying at this particular hotel.

“Yeah, we are staying here. I am sleeping with our bus driver.” you could have heard a pin drop,

” I have been known to sleep with my barber.” I had everyone’s attention now.

” Guys, it’s OK,” turning to leave. “My wife is sleeping with the gardener.”

 

Of course, my wife is the bus driver , the barber, and I am the gardener…

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