A guy walks into a bar and sits down. He starts dialing numbers…like a telephone…on his open 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 extends his hand to the bartender. The bartender talks into the hand and carries on a conversation. “Thats incredible!” said 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 ways where is the mens room?” The bartender directs him to the mens room. The guy goes in and 5, 10, 20 minutes go by and he doesn’t return.
Fearing the worst given the nature of the neighborhood, the bartender goes into the men’s rest room to check on the guy. The guy is spread eagled up against the wall. His pants are rolled 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 say’s “No, no I’m ok I’m just waiting for a fax.”