A Good Hair Day

I’m a pretty hairy man; my sister frequently describes me as looking like Santa Claus. We went to dinner the other night, and when I was getting down to mostly done with my meal, I found a hair in it. Now I know it wasn’t there when the server brought the meal, plus it looks very much like one of mine, so obviously I lost one and it wound up on my plate.

No big deal, except that the server was passing by and saw me pull it out and freaked.

Server: “Oh my god, sir, I’m so sorry, I’ll get that replaced right away!”

Sometimes I can get the wisecrack right when I need it, not ten minutes later…

Me: “No, it’s okay… this is mine. I keep them numbered just for such occasions… this is 18537.”

She made some strange noises trying to not laugh and thanked me for being understanding.