A guy walks into a bar and sits down.  After a few minutes, he starts
 dialing numbers...like a telephone...but on the back of his hand.  He
 then flips his hand over, and starts talking into the palm of his hand.
 The bartender walks over and tells him this is a very tough neighborhood
 and he doesn't need any trouble from weirdo's 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!", so the guy dials up a number and hands his
 hand to the bartender.  The bartender talks into the hand and carries on
 a brief 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 violence in the neighborhood, the bartender
 goes into the men's room.  The guy is spread-eagle against the wall.
 His pants are pulled down and he has a roll of toilet paper shoved up
 his butt.
 "Oh my god!" said the bartender. "Did the locals rob you?  Are you
 hurt?"
 The guy casually turns around, and says: "No, I'm OK. I'm just waiting
 for a fax."