For the past few years,
I've had a steady job,
working as a salesman
from nine to five,
selling pool tables just to keep alive.
Now a few weeks ago,
one day around noon,
in walked a gentleman, very well -dressed,
wore a Homburg hat,
and I was impressed.
He is in a big hurry,
and he wanted know
we could make a special table
he had plenty of dough
he'd pick it up in two weeks
when he come back to town
but it had to be different
he wanted it round now
I would have called the boss
but he is out to lunch
I figured this fellow was kind off his track
so I'd humor him along
till the boss got back so I told
and we could probably make it up.
But then he asked me,
with a gleam in his eye,
if we could build this table only one foot high.
A round table, one foot high.
By now, I was getting kind of worried.
I asked for his credentials.
His bank was called.
They told me his credit was
as good as gold.
Well, then to discourage him,
I made the price sky high.
He eagerly accepted,
and then with a silly grin,
he said it must be covered in
a leopard skin.
Well, I
wrote up the order
and off he went.
For two weeks steady we slaved away.
You know, have the table
ready for delivery day.
Well, he had sailed to Europe,
but on the way back,
his ship was sunk,
and he lives no more.
So, if you know anybody that's
looking for a round pool table,
one foot high,
covered in a leopard skin,
I'd appreciate it you'd let me know,
and call me, collect.
It's marked way down.
Beautiful.