This termite goes into a saloon, hops up on a stool, slaps his hand on the counter and says, “Bartender here?”.
When I returned from Vietnam, and before Judy and I got married, I told her this joke. Her response was not what I expected. She said, “I don’t get it”.
I didn’t explain it to her. In fact, I have never explained it to anyone. Ever. And I’m not going to explain it to you now.
But one night about seven years later, at 2:30 in the morning…
Judy: “Bill, wake up!”, she said, shaking me from my sleep.
Bill (me): “What is it? Are you OK?”
J: “I’m fine.”
B (m) (a grin starting to spread across my face in the dark): “What do you want?”
J: “I got that joke.”
B (m): “Uh…What joke?”
J: “The one about the bar.”
B (m): “Oh. Well great.”
J: “I don’t think it’s funny.”
B (m): “OK. Is that all?”
J: “No. I think I’ll tell it at work tomorrow to see what they all think about it.”
B (m): “OK. Anything else?”
J: “No, that’s it. Goodnight.”
The next night Judy came home from work…
J: “I told the joke at work. They didn’t think it was funny, either.”
B (m): “Well, how did you tell it?”
J: “Just like you told me. I said, ‘This giant ant walks into a bar, sits down and asks for the bartender…”
B (m) “Delivery needs work…”
Things With Six Strings 