”
A guy walks into a bar and sits down. After a few
minutes, he starts dialing numbers… like a
telephone…but on the back of his hand. He then flips
his hand over, and starts talking into the palm of his
hand. The bartender walks over and tells him this is a
very tough neighborhood and he doesn’t need any
trouble from weirdos here. The guy says, “”You don’t
understand. I’m very hi-tech. I had a phone installed
in my hand because I was tired of carrying the
cellular.””
The bartender says “”Prove it!””, so the guy dials up a
number and hands his hand to the bartender. The
bartender talks into the hand and carries on a brief
conversation. “”That’s incredible””, says the bartender,
“”I would never have believed it!”” “”Yeah””, said the
guy, “”I can keep in touch with my broker, my wife, you
name it. By the way, where is the men’s room?”” The
bartender directs him to the men’s room. The guy goes
in, and 5, 10, 20 minutes go by, and he doesn’t
return.
Fearing the worst, given the violence in the
neighborhood, the bartender goes into the men’s room.
The guy is spread-eagle against the wall. His pants
are pulled down and he has a roll of toilet paper
shoved up his butt. “”Oh my god!”” said the bartender.
“”Did the locals rob you? Are you hurt?”” The guy
casually turns around, and says: “”No, I’m OK. I’m just
waiting for a fax.””
”
