Pick slide Puns

For as long I can think of, anytime I would take my family out for supper at a restaurant, when our server would bring us the check I would in my best calm and collected demeanor advise our server "Oh table #?? said they were picking this up for us tonight", to which most servers just give a ya right smile or a simple haha nice try sir.

Well on this most recent adventure I see the check coming and get all primed and plot it all out. The server politely slides the check to me, I so graciously put my hand on it and slide it back with my recited lines delivered so perfectly "Oh yes I should have told you sooner that table 16 has offered to pick up the check tonight". Well our server burst out laughing, which to us was a surprise as its not as hilarious as she is now making it. Well when she finally stops laughing enough to talk, she so wonderfully delivers the message, "thats good to know sir - cause your sitting at table 16!"

Jokes on me! But it made for a great night of laugh at dad.

Edit - "demeanor" - where the frick was auto correct on that one. thx Enders!

The sun shone into my office through the lowered blinds all clumsy like, fumbling through the gaps between the venetian slats like a drunk fishing for loose change in his pockets; trying to see if he has money enough for one last drink or maybe the bus ride home.

The dame looked me up and down, clearly disappointed by what sat in front of her. I didn’t blame her. Three days of salt and pepper stubble clung to my my crude boxer’s jaw and the bags under my eyes were so big half the bums downtown could sleep in there and not even know anyone else was with 'em. That was ok. This broad wasn’t hiring me for my looks and I wasn’t looking to her for approval. We both knew what brought her in here, it was the name on the door.

Max Dad P.I. - that’s me. Private Investigator’s sure not the profession my mother would have picked out for me, but it keeps me in whisky and it keeps a roof over my head and that’ll do for now. The dame parted those cherry red lips of hers as she took another pull on that just-lit cigarette and nervously stubbed it out in the ashtray. My eyebrows knit together slightly. I hate seeing things go to waste.

“So as I was saying, Mr Dad,” she began.

“Please, call me Max”

“Alright, Max… well, as I was saying, my bag is missing. Stolen, I think. I urgently need it back. Shall I describe it to you?”

“No that’s alright miss. You got nothing to worry about,” I replied, sliding a bottle out of the desk drawer and pouring a big slug of scotch into to my morning coffee, “I’m sure it’ll be a brief case.”