Is That Your Title, Jim?

Everything was going Jim’s way.  He was sitting next to a beautiful woman.  They were on their second drink.  She was laughing at his jokes and making jokes about his laugh.

“So, what do you do?” she said, taking a sip of her martini.

This was the moment Jim had been waiting for.  The reason why he spent eight years in school.  The reason why he spent night in and night out studying and countless days in the lab.

“I’m a rocket scientist,” Jim replied.

“Wow, that’s amazing!” she smiled, scooting her chair closer to his.

This was it.  All Jim had to do now was get her phone number.

Suddenly, there was a loud BOOM heard outside, followed by an explosion, followed by the sound of tin cans rolling around.  The entire bar ran outdoors to find a large aircraft of sorts, demolished in the parking lot.   An astronaut emerged from the flaming debris.

“No!” He shouted. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no!  If NASA finds out I’m down here and not up on the moon they’ll kill me!  Oh, if only there was somebody here who could repair my rocket ship!”

Jim could feel panic as he went to adjust his tie, partially because he knew what was coming and partially because he wasn’t wearing a tie.

“This man is a rocket scientist!” the beautiful woman shouted, pointing to Jim.

A chill went down Jim’s spine.  He had only minored in rocket science.  His major was communications.

Still, he had to give it a shot.  Jim went to his car to get his wrenches and in about an hour, the ship was up and running.

“Ten, nine, eight…” the entire bar started into a launch countdown.

“Let’s go inside,” Jim suggested to the woman as the rocket fired into the air.

“That was amazing,” she said as they sat back down on their bar stools.  “You are amazing.  You’re a hero.”

“Thank you,” Jim said.  “So anyway, would you mind if..”

All of the sudden there was a loud BOOM heard outside, followed by the sound of tin cans rolling around, followed by angry footsteps.  The bar door flung open. It was the astronaut.  He was furious.

“What the heck man?!” he shouted at Jim across the bar.  “What the hell kind of repair job was that?!”

“Jim, I don’t understand,” the woman said.

“Listen, I have to level with you.  I only minored in rocket science.  I’m a communications major.”

“Well, you would think that a communications major would do a better job of communicating his abilities to a woman,” she said, upset.

“I have to level with you,” Jim said, “I only majored in communications.  I’m a brain surgeon.”

“Wow,” she said.  “That’s really impressive!”

“Really?” Jim seemed surprised.

“Aw man!” the astronaut shouted, “now I need brain surgery!”

Jim groaned.  “Let me go get my wrenches.”

The entire bar watched as Jim went to work, right there on the pool table  After about an hour and a half, the astronaut sat up.

“There you go, all better,” Jim said, tapping him on the shoulder.  All of the sudden, the astronaut launched into the air, through the ceiling and up towards the moon.

“Crap, wrong thing,” Jim said. He turned towards the beautiful woman, “can I have your phone number?”

“Nope,” she said, “I’m a nun.”

Whenever I see someone trying to meet women the old fashioned way, I tell them this story.