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Sore thumb
“Just bring me a coffee and a menu,” he tells the waitress.
She returns quickly, but as she sets the coffee down… he notices her thumb is in the cup.
He frowns, pushes the menu aside. “Forget it. Just bring me some soup.”
She hurries off and comes back with a bowl of soup—thumb in the soup this time.
Now he’s had enough.
“What’s with the thumb?” he snaps.
She looks confused. “Excuse me?”
“You brought my coffee with your thumb in it. Now my soup too? What’s going on?”
She sighs. “I slammed my thumb in a door yesterday. Doctor said to keep it somewhere warm.”
He scowls. “Then why don’t you shove it up your butt?!”
She smiles sweetly. “Oh, I do—when I’m in the kitchen.”
