.
.
A man walks into a bar, sits down on a bench and orders a cold one. He swigs
down the beer, looks in his pocket, cringes and orders another. He gulps down
that one, looks in his pocket again, cringes and orders yet another one. This
goes on for at least an hour and a half.

Finally the bartender, bursting with curiosity, says: "I know that it's none of my
business buddy, but I have to ask. Why the whole "drink, look in pocket, cringe
and order another one" routine?"

"Well," slurred the man, "There's a picture of my wife in my pocket. When she
starts to look good, then it's time for me to go home."
.

.
.