Poker pals

Five elderly Jewish men are playing poker one night, when Meyerowitz loses $2,000 on a single hand, stands up, clutches his chest and drops dead on the floor.

The other four stand up, shocked. Hirsh looks around and asks, “Now, who is going to tell his wife?”

They draw straws. Epstein, who is always a loser, picks the short one. They tell him to be discreet, be gentle, don’t make a bad situation any worse than it is.

“Gentlemen! Discreet? I’m the most discreet mensch you will ever meet. Discretion is my middle name. Leave it to me.”

Epstein shleps over to the Meyerowitz condo and knocks on the door. Trudy answers, and asks what he wants.

Epstein declares, “Your husband just lost $2,000 — and is afraid to come home.”

She bellows, “Tell him he should drop dead!”

What she sees in him

Sharon is broyges. She firmly believes that her Allen is seeing another woman — and a non-Jew, at that! So she goes to a detective agency and tells the manager everything she suspects about Allen’s affair, at the same time painting a very unflattering picture of her husband of 27 years.

“I’m sorry to hear all this,” says the manager. “So what help would you like from us?”

“I want you to get your best agent to follow that shmo of a husband of mine — and that girlfriend of his, too — day and night for the next month,” she says. “And then I want your agent to prepare a detailed report for me on what that shiksa sees in him.”

© david minkoff