McPherson walked into a bar and ordered martini after martini, each time removing the olives and placing them in a jar. When the jar was filled with olives and all the drinks consumed, the Irishman started to leave. “S’cuse me,” said another bar patron, who was puzzled over what McPherson had done. “What was that all about?

” “Nothing,” said the Irishman, “my wife sent me out for a jar of olives.”