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 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 arse.
"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."