A Weekend Away

I decided to go skiing with my buddy, Mister A. We loaded up Mister A's Ford pickup and headed to northern Colorado. After driving for a few hours, we got caught in a terrible blizzard.

We pulled into a nearby farm house and asked the attractive lady who answered the door if we could spend the night. "I realize it's terrible weather out there and I have this huge house all to myself, but I'm recently widowed," she explained. "And I'm afraid the neighbors will talk if I let you stay in my house."

"Not to worry," Mister A said, "we'll be happy to sleep in the barn, and if the weather breaks, we'll be gone at first light."

The lady agreed, and so we found our way to the barn and settled in for the night. Come morning, the weather had cleared and we got on their way and enjoyed a great weekend of skiing.

About nine months later, while I was working on the archive, I got an unexpected letter from an attorney. It took me a few minutes to figure it out, but I finally determined that it was from the attorney of that attractive widow I had met on the ski weekend.

So I dropped in on my friend Mister A and asked him, "Do you remember that good-looking widow from the farm where we stayed on our ski holiday in Colorado."

"Yes, I do." he replied.

"Did you happen to get up in the middle of the night, go up to the house and sleep with her?" I asked.

"Well, uh, yeah," he said, a little embarrassed about being found out, "I have to admit that I did."

"And did you happen to use my name instead of telling her your name?" I asked.

Mister A's face turned red and he said, "Yeah, sorry buddy, I'm afraid I did. Why do you ask?"

I replied, "No need to apologize, friend. She died last month and left me everything!"