A fleeing Taliban fighter, desperate for a drink, was plodding through the Afghan desert when he came across a little man at a stall selling ties.
“Do you have water?” the Taliban rebel asked.
“No, but would you like to buy a tie? $50.”
“Fool!” shouted the fighter. “I don’t need an over-priced tie. I should kill you, but I must find water first.”
“OK,” said the stall owner. “It does not matter that you do not want my ties and that you hate me. I will show you I am a bigger man than that. If you continue over that hill for about five kilometres, you will find a lovely restaurant. It has all the ice-cold water you need.”
Muttering, the fighter staggered over the hill.
Several hours later, he staggered back.
“Your filthy swine of a brother won’t let me in without a tie.”
“Do you have water?” the Taliban rebel asked.
“No, but would you like to buy a tie? $50.”
“Fool!” shouted the fighter. “I don’t need an over-priced tie. I should kill you, but I must find water first.”
“OK,” said the stall owner. “It does not matter that you do not want my ties and that you hate me. I will show you I am a bigger man than that. If you continue over that hill for about five kilometres, you will find a lovely restaurant. It has all the ice-cold water you need.”
Muttering, the fighter staggered over the hill.
Several hours later, he staggered back.
“Your filthy swine of a brother won’t let me in without a tie.”
