Joe worked very hard at the telephone exchange, but spent two nights each week playing darts and golf every Saturday.
His wife thought he was pushing himself too hard, so for his birthday she took him to a strip club.
The doorman at the club greeted them and said, "Hello Joe! How are you?"
His wife was puzzled and asked whether he'd been to this club before.
"Oh no," said Joe. "He's in my darts league."
When they were seated, a waitress asked Joe whether he'd like his usual and brought over a pint of London Pride.
His wife was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and remarked, "How did she know that you drink London Pride?"
"I recognize her; she's the waitress from the golf club. I always have a London Pride at the end of the first nine holes."
A stripper then came over to their table, threw her arms around Joe, started to rub herself all over him, and cooed, "Hi Joe. Want your usual table dance, big boy?"
Joe's wife, now furious, grabbed her handbag and stormed out of the club.
Joe followed and saw her getting into a cab. Before she could slam the door, he jumped in beside her.
Joe tried desperately to explain how the stripper must have mistaken him for someone else, but his wife was having none of it.
She screamed at him at the top of her lungs, calling him every four-letter word in the book.
The cabby turned around and said, "Crikey Joe, you picked up a real bitch this time."
.....
Joe's funeral will take place this Saturday.