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My dad told me this story many years ago.
Every morning precisely at 10am, a guy on a bicycle shows up at the border crossing. Tied to the bike's handlebars was a large sack.
Border officials would always make the guy open the sack so they could check the contents.
For thirty years, the guy did this every morning; officials never found anything in the sack but sand. He'd cross the border, then show up again at 5pm, still on his bicycle, still with the bag full as usual, and cross back to his home country.
On the first day of the 31st year, the guy appears right on schedule, but this time in a brand-new Mercedes Maybach S-class.
Border officials are obviously surprised; they know he'd been smuggling something over the border for the last thirty years.
What was he smuggling?
Every morning precisely at 10am, a guy on a bicycle shows up at the border crossing. Tied to the bike's handlebars was a large sack.
Border officials would always make the guy open the sack so they could check the contents.
For thirty years, the guy did this every morning; officials never found anything in the sack but sand. He'd cross the border, then show up again at 5pm, still on his bicycle, still with the bag full as usual, and cross back to his home country.
On the first day of the 31st year, the guy appears right on schedule, but this time in a brand-new Mercedes Maybach S-class.
Border officials are obviously surprised; they know he'd been smuggling something over the border for the last thirty years.
What was he smuggling?