A guy walks into a bar and sits down. He starts dialing numbers like a telephone on his hand. Then he starts talking into his hand.
The bartender walks over to him 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 high-tech and I had a phone installed in my hand because I got tired of carrying my cellular."
The skeptical bartender asks him to prove it, so the guy dials a number and holds his hand out to the bartender. The bartender talks into the hand and hears another person talking on the other end. "That's incredible," says the bartender. "I would never have believed it."
"Yeah," said the guy, "I'm really very high-tech. I can keep in touch with my broker, my wife, you name it! By the way, where's the men's room?"
The bartender 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 barkeep enters the men's room. There the guy stands, spread-eagle against the wall, his pants pulled down and a roll of toilet paper up his butt.
"My god," says the bartender. "Did they rob you? How much did they get?" The guy turns and says, "Oh, it's OK. I'm just waiting for a fax."