The Wiper

I walked into my favorite Mexican restaurant and sat down at the bar. “Kim,” I yelled at the bartender, “throw me a towel. This table needs to be wiped off.”
"I’ll get it,” she said from behind the bar.
“Just throw me the towel. I’m a pretty good wiper, and I can prove it.
“You can?”
“Yeah, my briefs are spotless.”