An older man wearing a stovepipe hat, a waistcoat and a phony beard sat down at a bar and ordered a drink.
As the bartender set it down, he asked, “Going to a party?”
“Yeah,” the man answered, “I’m supposed to come dressed as my love life.”
“But you look like Abe Lincoln,” protested the barkeep.
“That’s right. My last four scores were seven years ago.”
