. . . tales , as told by . . .
. . . yours truly.
My pal Van owned jewelry stores in the San Fernando Valley. One day, after he'd been in business for decades, a customer walks in to his second store and asks if he's the same Van that owned a store at another location. "Sure enough!", said Van, surmising the person who'd just walked thru his door was a previous client.
"Ah, I thought so," he said. Then he pulled a wrinkled scrap of paper out of his wallet. "I'd like to have my battery changed, please."
Van glanced at the crumpled newsprint. It was a coupon he had placed in a local newspaper when he opened his first store to induce new customers. Then he looked at it again.
There was no expiry date.
So decades after the coupon was issued, he was forced to change a battery for no charge. (There's a pun in there somewhere.)
* * * * *
One day, a regular customer of Van's walks in.
"Grandpa just died and left us a Patek Phillipe! It doesn't run. Please service it and call me when it's done. I'm very busy and have to go back home now," she said as she tried to exit the store.
Both front and back doors were operated remotely; Van didn't let her out.
"Please come back, Mrs X - I have to give you a receipt." As he looks at the watch for the first time, he realizes it's a quartz knock-off.
"Mrs X - this isn't a Patek Phillipe. It's not worth even a hundred dollars. Do you want the battery changed?"
Mrs X glared. "You mean it's not a valuable watch?"
"I'm sorry, Mrs X . . . Grandpa might have owned a Patek Phillipe, but this isn't it."
Had Mrs X left the premises, Van would've been in a mess and then some.