A man got up in one of those dinky little pubs where people can take the stage and perform a stand-up comic routine. This particular fellow was extremely spaced out, articulated very unclearly and began a rambling joke.
The weird thing is that the joke had the potential to be quite funny.
However, this poor man exhibited no sense of how to tell a good joke; how to work up to it, how to give it flavour and texture, how to build up to release the punchline to everyone's amusement. No - the man told the joke (and kept getting lost in it) in a loud but senseless muttering style. When he finally reached the punchline, it fell flat like fizzed-out soft drink.
One of the crowd, a bald-headed executive type of bloke, turned to the man's mate, seated at a table near the front. "You'd better tell your friend not to give up his day job," he said.
The friend grimaced. "Yeah, he's a great bloke, but he's got no sense of timing."
The bald-headed bloke said curiously, "What IS his day job?"
The friend looked surprised. "I told you already."
"You did not."
"Yes, I did," insisted the friend. "He's a drummer. I TOLD you he has no sense of timing!"
