A Wise Old Farmer Buys a New Truck—and Learns That Deals Have a Price

A wise old farmer had lived long enough to recognize a bad deal when he saw one—but even wisdom has its limits when necessity steps in. One crisp morning, after years of coaxing life out of stubborn soil and repairing worn-out machinery, he drove into town to buy a new pickup truck. The local newspaper had advertised a specific model at a set price, and the farmer, practical to the bone, trusted that price meant exactly what it said.

At the dealership, he pointed directly to the truck he wanted. No haggling. No wandering around the lot. Just straightforward business. The salesman smiled, nodded, and ushered him inside to complete the paperwork. Pens were uncapped, forms shuffled across the desk, everything seemed routine—until the farmer glanced at the final bill.

He frowned, adjusted his glasses, and leaned closer. “This isn’t the price I saw,” he said calmly.

The salesman launched into a practiced spiel: power steering, power brakes, power windows, heavy-duty tires—a package of extras the farmer hadn’t asked for but apparently came “standard” with the truck. Each feature nudged the price higher. The salesman spoke rapidly, confidently, as if the matter had been decided before it began.

The farmer listened quietly. He needed the truck—his old one had broken down months ago, and borrowing neighbors’ vehicles had grown tiresome. With a quiet sigh, he signed the papers, paid the inflated price, and drove home in his shiny new pickup, remembering every detail.

Months later, the phone rang. It was the same salesman, cheerful and eager. His son needed a cow for a 4-H project. Did the farmer have any for sale?

The farmer paused, then said simply, “Yes. I have a few. Five hundred dollars a head. Come on out and take your pick.”

The salesman arrived with his son. They examined the cows carefully, discussing temperament, health, and size. Eventually, they picked one. Satisfied, the salesman wrote a check for $500.

The farmer shook his head. “That’s not the final price,” he said.

The salesman blinked. “What do you mean? You said five hundred.”

“That’s the base price,” the farmer replied. “This cow comes with extras.”

From his pocket, the farmer produced a neatly written list:

• Basic cow: $500

• Two-tone exterior: $45

• Extra stomach: $75

• Product storage equipment: $60

• Straw compartment: $120

• Four spigots at $10 each: $40

• Leather upholstery: $125

• Dual horns: $45

• Automatic fly swatter: $38

• Fertilizer attachment: $185

Grand total: $1,233.

The salesman stared at the list, then at the cow, then back at the farmer. Silence spoke volumes. The lesson landed without a word needed—the same way the farmer had learned months earlier. Wisdom, after all, has a long memory.

The second story moves from green fields to the blazing desert, where a modern-day cowboy had overextended himself. Days without water left him crawling on hands and knees, sunburned and sand-filled, convinced he would not survive.

In the distance, he spotted a half-buried object. Summoning the last of his strength, he dragged it free—it was an old, battered briefcase. With trembling hands, he opened it.

Out popped a genie—but not the kind from fairy tales. She wore a dull gray dress, an Australian Taxation Office badge pinned to her chest. A calculator peeked from her purse, and a pencil was tucked behind her ear. Her expression was tired, professional, and unimpressed.

“Well,” she said, “you know the rules. Three wishes.”

The cowboy squinted. “A tax auditor genie? I don’t trust this,” he muttered.

“You’ve got no water, no transport, and about ten minutes left. What do you have to lose?” she replied.

He reluctantly agreed. His first wish: a lush oasis, food and drink within reach. Shazam. Palm trees, cool water, wine, and platters of food appeared instantly.

His second wish: wealth beyond imagination. Shazam. Treasure chests overflowed with gold coins and jewels.

“One wish left,” the genie reminded him.

He thought hard. Finally, he said, “I wish that wherever I go, beautiful women will want me.”

Shazam. He was transformed—into a tampon.

The moral? If the government—or any authority—offers something, there’s always a catch.