05/14/2026 from Daily Jokes
#22153
The dim glow of neon signs reflected off polished mahogany. Soft jazz played in the background, mingling with the clink of ice and the low murmur of after-work conversations. It was the kind of upscale bar where attorneys unwound, deals were whispered in corners, and martinis were served with exactly three olives.
Charles, a sharp-suited attorney with a briefcase that cost more than most people’s rent, slid onto a stool at the far end of the bar.
He ordered his usual: extra-dry martini, twist of lemon, stirred not shaken.
As he waited, he noticed the man seated beside him. Disheveled jacket. Untied shoes. A faint aroma of regret and cheap whiskey.
The man was hunched over, mumbling softly to himself, holding a tiny, mysterious object up to the dim bar light.
“Well,” the drunk slurred, squinting at the item. “It looks… plastic.”
He rolled it gently between his calloused fingers, brow furrowed in deep concentration.
“But it feels… like rubber.”
Charles, ever the curious professional, couldn’t help himself. He leaned in slightly, voice polite but intrigued.
“Excuse me, sir… what do you have there?”
The drunk blinked slowly, as if noticing Charles for the first time. He held up the tiny object like a scientist presenting a rare specimen.
“I don’t know,” he replied earnestly. “But it looks like plastic… and feels like rubber.”
Charles adjusted his cufflinks, his analytical mind fully engaged. “May I take a look?”
The drunk shrugged and handed it over.
Charles accepted the mysterious item with the gravitas of a forensic expert. He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. He examined it closely under the bar’s ambient lighting. He gave it a cautious sniff. Then—because thoroughness demanded it—a tiny, professional lick.
He paused. He pondered. He concluded:
“Hmm. Yes, it does look like plastic and feel like rubber. No significant odor. No discernible taste. I’m afraid I don’t know what it is either.”
He handed it back, genuinely puzzled. “Where did you get it?”
The drunk accepted the item with a grateful nod, pocketed it carefully, and replied with perfect, innocent sincerity:
“Out of my nose!”
