High tech

A guy walks into a bar and sits down. He starts dialing numbers like there’s a
telephone in his hand, then puts his palm up against his cheek and begins
talking. Suspicious, the bartender walks over and tells him this is a very tough
neighborhood and he doesn’t need any trouble 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.”

The guy dials up a number and hands his hand to the bartender. The bartender
talks into the hand and carries on a 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 neighborhood,
the bartender goes into the men’s room to check on the guy. The guy is
spread-eagled up against the wall. His pants are pulled down and he has a roll
of toilet paper up his butt.

“Oh my god!” said the bartender. “Did they rob you? Are you hurt?”

The guy turns and says: “No, no, I’m ok. I’m just waiting for a fax.”

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