A grizzled old prospector arrives in town after six months alone in the hills panning for gold. He ties his mule to the hitching rail and walks into the saloon. The place is empty except for the bartender who is polishing glasses.
'Give me a shot of red eye,' he says to the bartender and swallows his drink. Then, looking around, he asks where all the saloon girls are as he has an itch he'd like to scratch.
'Sorry old timer,' says the bartender. 'The boys from the Bar-X rode in a couple of hours ago and took them all off to the ranch for a BBQ.' He paused for a moment, then added. 'There's Old Joe the town drunk passed out in the alley out back if your interested.'
The old feller shakes his head. 'No, I'm not like that. Give me another shot of red eye.'
After a few more shots of red eye he says to the bartender. 'You must have at least one saloon girl left. Old, fat, ugly, I don't mind.'
'Nothing,' says the bartender shaking his head. 'I told you, there's only Old Joe out the back.'
'No, I told you, I'm not like that.' says the old feller.
But, after a few more shots of red eye, he feels his itch getting stronger and he asks the bartender, confidingly, 'Look. I'm not like that really but if I was to go with Old Joe, who would know about it?'
The bartender thinks for a moment and says, 'Well, there'd just be the seven of us.'
'Seven!' exclaims the old timer, looking around the empty bar. 'How do you make that out?'
'Well,' says the bartender, 'there'd be you, me and Old Joe of course. Then the four blokes to hold him down because Old Joe's not like that either.'