McPherson walked
into a
bar and ordered martini after martini, each time removing the
olives and placing them in a jar. When the jar was filled with olives and
all the drinks consumed, the Irishman started to leave.
„S’cuse
me,“ said another bar patron, who was puzzled over what
McPherson
had done. „What was that all about?“
„Nothing,“ said the
Irishman, „my wife sent me out for a jar of
olives.“
