I was sitting behind an enthusiastic mom at my son’s Little League game. Her boy was pitching for the opposing team and she cheered as he threw wild pitch after wild pitch.
The poor kid walked every batter. It was only the first inning and the score was 12–0. Then one batter finally hit the ball.
"Oh no," the mom wailed. "There goes his no-hitter."
Genie: OK, I'm ready for your third wish.
Me: Third? What about the first two?
Genie: Well, this is a little unusual, but after your first wish, you screamed like a madman and said "I wish I'd never made that wish!" So that counted as your second wish, and I erased your memory of both of them.
Me: Well, OK. I wish I really understood how women think.
Genie: Granted. By the way, that was your first wish, too.
I was waiting tables at a country club when an elegantly dressed woman spilled Manhattan clam chowder all over her white linen skirt. She began furiously dabbing at it with a napkin.
Having plenty of experience with getting out food stains, I asked, "Can I bring you some club soda?"
"Young lady," she barked, "I'll be the judge of when I've had enough to drink. Bring me another martini!"