I got a lift to a meeting tonight, and as we left the car, my driver, the president of the committee, asked me if I was busy this weekend, you know, having a hot-and-heavy affair and all.
I said no... not unless you count Bob.
"Who's Bob?", he says.
"Well, "I reply, "it's my 'battery operated boyfriend'."
We were jaywalking, and the poor man doubled-over with laughter in the middle of the street.
Note to self: save the punchlines for the sidewalk.