A fellow stopped at a rural gas station and, after filling his tank, paid the bill and bought a soft drink. As he stood by his car he watched a couple of men working along the roadside.
One would dig a hole two or three feet deep and then move on. The other man came along behind and filled in the hole. While one was digging a new hole, the other was about 25 feet behind filling in the old. The men worked right past the fellow with the soft drink and went on down the road.
"I can't stand this," said he, tossing the can in a trash container and heading down the road toward the men.
"Hold it, hold it, men" he said. "Can you tell me what's going on here with this digging?"
"We work for the county, " one said, somewhat augustly.
"But one of you is digging a hold and the other fills it up. You're not accomplishing anything. Aren't you wasting the county's money?"
"You don't understand, mister," one of the men said, leaning on his shovel and wiping his brow. "Normally there's three of us--me, Tad and Buster. I dig the hole, Tad sticks in the tree and Buster here puts the dirt back.
Now just because Tad's sick, that don't mean that Mike and me can't work ..."