It Could Be Worse

     We did a couple performances in the West Virginia town of Beckley. It was a mining town, so our biggest audiences were on Sundays as this was the only day the miners didn't have to work. 
     The town was covered in black coal dust. Even after they washed they had this black cast to them, as if the coat dust was ingrained in their skin.  
     One afternoon after a performance, Ed was in one of these low moods. He went to a local bar, and was sitting there staring at his drink when a miner stepped up to him, grabbed his drink, and gulped it down in one swig.
     The miner then sneered, "What're ya gonna do about it?"
     At that point Ed began to cry.
     The miner's mood changed abruptly.
     "Hey man, don't cry. I didn't think you'd try. I can't stand to see a man cry."
     Ed then explained, "This has been a terrible day. To start, I muffed my lines at the show this afternoon and will probably get fired. This morning I left my wallet in the dab, and when I got it back all my money was gone. I got a call from my wife and she wants a divorce. Then she told me that our dog died."
     Thne Ed explained to this hulking miner that he bought some arsenic and had come to this bar to kill himself. He had put the arsenic in his drink.
     Then Ed said, "But enough about me, how's your day going?" 

Not a Cotton Pickin Thing
     In a small town outside of Chicago, we had finished a matinee and had been invited to dinner in the next town. There were two carloads of us. Three of us were riding with a grandmotherly lady who was an aunt of some such of our hosts.
     As we were driving along she needed something out of the glove box. While she was rummaging around in there, I noticed a large pistol. Somewhat surprised I said, "I see you have a pistol handy."
     She replied, "I wouldn't be without it."
     Something mader me ask, "Do you have any other guns?"
     "Oh yes," she said reaching under her seat where she pulled out another pistol.
     She reached in her purse and pulled out yet another handgun.
     I was astounded, "Lady, what are you afraid of?"
     "Not a cotton picking thing."