You Are Late . . .
For thirty years, Johnson had arrived at work at 9A.M. on
the dot. He had never missed a day and was never late.
Consequently, when on one particular day 9 A.M. passed
without Johnson's arrival, it caused a sensation. All work
ceased and the boss himself, looking at his watch and
muttering, came out into the corridor.
Finally, precisely at ten, Johnson showed up, clothes dusty
and torn, his face scratched and bruised, his glasses bent.
He limped painfully to the time clock, punched in, and said,
aware that all eyes were upon him, "I tripped and rolled down
two flights of stairs in the subway. Nearly killed myself."
And the boss said, "And to roll down two flights of stairs
took you a whole hour?"