We were eating at one of the trendier restaurants in town when my friend pointed to the menu and told the waitress, "I’ll have the #24."
"Uh, Jim," I whispered, "that’s the price, not the meal number."
"Oh," he said. "Then give me the #12."
One day at a local café, a woman suddenly called out, "My daughter’s choking! She swallowed a nickel! Please, anyone, help!"
Immediately a man at a nearby table rushed up to her and said he was experienced in these situations. He calmly stepped over to the girl, then with no look of concern, wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. Out popped the nickel.
The man returned to his table as if nothing had happened.
"Thank you!" the mother cried. "Tell me, are you a doctor?"
"No," the man replied. "I work for the IRS."