Who Wrote This?
At a university hall of residence, the Warden had a fondness for classical music. He often invited a string quartet he knew to perform in the dining hall—sometimes established works, sometimes freshly written pieces. Attendance was optional for students, but the resident tutors were expected to be there, whether they liked it or not.
One summer evening, the quartet brought along a formidable contralto. The new piece they were premiering called for her to begin singing outside the hall, slowly making her entrance to join the musicians. The only suitable starting point, however, was the kitchen—so she swept in past the industrial toaster, singing in a decidedly modern, not-so-melodic style, with everyone taking it all very seriously.
The tutors were never especially interested, but this performance stretched one man’s patience thin. As the singer settled beside the quartet and the music continued, he leaned over to the man next to him and muttered:
“Who wrote this sh—?”
The other man leaned back calmly and replied:
“I did.”
