McClendon Studios Presents:
Hit My Hand
Years ago, two older men were working themselves to a frazzle in the hot summer sun. They were making minimum wage. Their boss man was fresh out of college. He was making $25 an hour and it appeared to the older men that the boss man did no real work.
One day, one of the older men turned to the other and asked him, “Why is boss man sitting up there in the shade, sipping Co-Colas, making $25 per hour, while we are down in this hot grave working ourselves into the grave and making only minimum wage? The second man said he did not know why.
Since the first man was not one to leave well enough alone, he decided he would go ask boss man why this was so. He climbed out of the grave to ask boss man.
The man walked up to boss man and asked him, “Boss man, why is it you make $25 an hour and do no real work, and we work like dogs down in the hole and only make minimum wage?” The boss man responded, “I am glad you asked that.” He held his hand directly in front of a concrete wall. Boss man said, “Hit my hand.”
The older guy reared back and swung to hit the boss man's hand. Just before the old man’s fist made contact with boss man's hand, boss man moved his hand out of the way and the old man’s fist made contact with the concrete wall very hard. The old man screamed in pain. Boss man said, “Now, do you see why I make $25 an hour and you make minimum wage?”
The older man shook his hand to remove the pain and said, “Yes!” The older man climbed back in the hole. The second man asked the first man, “Did boss man explain it to you?” The first man said, "Yes." He held his hand in front of his face and said, “Hit my hand.”
And that is the difference.