They were talking about life and one of them misstepped on the scaffolding, fell from the fourth floor, hit his head and died on the spot.
His friends were all shaken. They called 911, took all legal actions they should and their friend's body was removed.
One of them, noticing they faced a problem, said:
"Who's gonna tell his wife about this?
"I'm not doing it!" Said another one.
"Neither am I! You should do it!" Said the other.
"I'm not going!" Said the first one.
"Well, you're the most educated of us. It's better that you go, any other of us could deliver the news in a wrong way and give her a heart attack." Said the second guy.
"All right, all right. I know how to do this." Said the first one and left to tell the new widow the sad news.
The other two remained to close up the site and tidy up the place. A few minutes later the first guy comes back, six-pack of beer under his arm, drinking a cold one.
"What the hell? Didn't you go tell the widow about our friend?" Said one guy.
"I did exactly that." He said, taking another gulp.
"And why are you back here with a six-pack?"
"Well, I went to her house and she was at the door. I asked her: 'Aren't you the widow who was married to that guy who died on the construction site?'
'No, I'm not' she said.
Then I said: 'Wanna bet a six-pack on it?'"
Sorry if this has been posted before. My father told me this one and I wanted to share.
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