A company director was travelling on a plane late one night, when a young man in the next seat turned to him and said, “Excuse me, Sir, could you tell me the time?”

“Yes, I could,” the director said, “but I’m not going to tell you, because if I do we’ll get to talking. I’ll ask you what you do for a living and you’ll say you are a salesman from Sydney or some such place. You’ll ask me where I’m from and I’ll tell you Perth.”

“Then, I’ll ask you if you were ever there and you will say you get there now and then. Then, I’ll suggest that the next time you are there, you will give us a call and come over for dinner.”

“And the trouble is you’ll do it. And in that way you’ll meet my attractive young daughter and you’ll start going together and fall in love and get married, live in Sydney, have a family and I’ll hardly ever see my grandchildren.

“And I don’t want it to happen. I don’t want my daughter married to a travelling salesman … from Sydney.”

“And that’s why I’m not going to tell you the time!”

The Pessimist

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