A guy walks into a bar and sits down. He starts dialing numbers...

like a telephone... on his hand and talking into his hand. The bar

tender walks over and tells him that 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 bar tender

says prove it.

The guy dials up a number and hands his hand to the bar tender.

The bar tender talks into the hand and carries on a conversation.

That's incredible, says the bar tender... I would never believe it!

Yeah, said the guy, I'm really very hi-tech. I can keep in touch

with

my broker, my wife, you name it! By the way, where is the men's

room. The bar tender directs him to the men's room. The guy goes

in and doesn't come out for the longest time. Fearing the worst

given the tough neighborhood, the bar tender goes into the men's

room. There is the guy...he is spread-eagle on the wall...his pants

are pulled down and he has a roll of toilet paper up his butt.

"Oh my god, said the bar tender Did they rob you? How much did

they get?"

The guy turns and says: No, no,... I'm just waiting for a fax!