While riding my Harley, I swerved to avoid hitting a deer, lost control and landed in a ditch, banging my head badly.
Dazed and confused, I crawled out of the ditch to the roadside when a shiny new convertible pulled up.
Inside was a beautiful woman who asked,
“Are you okay?”
As I looked up, I noticed her elegant dress and replied,
“I think so,” as I pulled myself up to lean on the car.
She said,
“Get in, and I’ll take you home so I can clean and bandage that nasty scrape on your head.”
“That’s kind of you,” I replied,
“But I don’t think my wife will like that.”
“Oh, come on,” she insisted.
“I’m a nurse. I need to check if you have more scrapes and treat them properly.”
She was really persuasive—and stunning. Feeling shaken and weak, I agreed but added,
“I still don’t think my wife is going to like this.”
We arrived at her place just a few miles away.
After a couple of cold beers and some bandaging, I thanked her and said,
“I feel much better, but I really need to go. My wife is going to be so upset.”
Smiling, she said,
“Don’t be silly! Stay a while. She won’t know anything. By the way, where is she?”
I hesitated before replying,
“My guess is… she’s still in the ditch.”
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