There was once a man who was in a bar, terribly drunk. The bartender noticed this, and when he asked for another beer, the bartender politely told him that he was too drunk to be served another drink. The man leaves. He walks in the side door and asks the bartender for a beer. A little frustrated, the bartender repeats the answer he said before. The man leaves. He then comes in the other side door, walks to the bartender and asks for a beer. The bartender is annoyed, and tells the man he is too drunk and to get a ride home and leave his bar. He leaves. He then comes in the BACK door, comes the the bartender, and before he can say a word, the bartender explodes at him. "I told you already, you are way to drunk, you can not have another beer! Get out of my bar!" Disgruntled, the man looks at the bartender and asks, "Man, how many bars do you work at?"
Credit: Unknown.
Showing posts with label drunkenness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drunkenness. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
GOOD SPIRITS
by Cynthia MacGregor
Some folks can hardly beer the thought of drinking, while others make rum in their schedules to stop and sip a couple every night. The average person has a strong preference for one or another brand of booze—if you ask most any person what brandy likes, he’s bound to have an answer. And if he has to drink some other kind, it makes his evening go all a-rye and his disposition turn sour.
What makes a person like a particular alcoholic drink over another? I’m martini bit suspicious that it’s an inherited characteristic—in other words, it’s in your gins. My mother was a scotch drinker, and so am I. I don't care for beer at all. It’s not just the gastric eruptions after drinking beer—quite apart from all the bourbon you do, I never even cared for the taste of the stuff. It’s ale I can do to take a tiny sip.
Many people hate it when they can’t get their favorite drink, or their favorite brand. They’ll grouse and wine about it. This may be okay behavior in a bar, but it’s hardly mannerly in someone’s home. It’s far cooler to be polite to your host, who after all is trying to be cordial to you.
Booze makes people behave in odd ways. I’ve even heard of women getting down on the living room floor and wrestling after losing their inhibitions to inebriation. “I can liquor with one hand tied behind my back.” “No, you’ll be the lickee. I’ll be the liqueur—just watch!”
I haven’t a moment’s stout that alcohol does strange things to people. I recently got bock from a trip up north, where I spent an evening in the company of a woman I’d never met before. Right before my eyes, I saw this woman change character completely as soon as her husband porter a drink. She was insufferable—oh, how I missed my far-off foam in Florida right then.
I should have stopped at my friend’s house nearby before the visit—he’s scotch just the thing to show someone how booze changes them—a videocamera, to re-cordial last few minutes sober and your subsequent behavior as you imbibe. By the time the evening was over, this woman had spilled peanuts all over the rug and broken a glass anisette of dishes.
The last I saw of her, she was out on the street, having a conversation with an orange traffic cone. She was talking to it a mile a minute and really believed it was not only answering her but outtalking her by a mile. When I walked over to her, she said to me, in absolute amazement, “Just listen to that cognac!”
If that woman had seen the way she carried on, the visible tape recorded proof, she would have really been hurting. I mean, it would have caused her real pain, not just champagne.
Some folks can hardly beer the thought of drinking, while others make rum in their schedules to stop and sip a couple every night. The average person has a strong preference for one or another brand of booze—if you ask most any person what brandy likes, he’s bound to have an answer. And if he has to drink some other kind, it makes his evening go all a-rye and his disposition turn sour.
What makes a person like a particular alcoholic drink over another? I’m martini bit suspicious that it’s an inherited characteristic—in other words, it’s in your gins. My mother was a scotch drinker, and so am I. I don't care for beer at all. It’s not just the gastric eruptions after drinking beer—quite apart from all the bourbon you do, I never even cared for the taste of the stuff. It’s ale I can do to take a tiny sip.
Many people hate it when they can’t get their favorite drink, or their favorite brand. They’ll grouse and wine about it. This may be okay behavior in a bar, but it’s hardly mannerly in someone’s home. It’s far cooler to be polite to your host, who after all is trying to be cordial to you.
Booze makes people behave in odd ways. I’ve even heard of women getting down on the living room floor and wrestling after losing their inhibitions to inebriation. “I can liquor with one hand tied behind my back.” “No, you’ll be the lickee. I’ll be the liqueur—just watch!”
I haven’t a moment’s stout that alcohol does strange things to people. I recently got bock from a trip up north, where I spent an evening in the company of a woman I’d never met before. Right before my eyes, I saw this woman change character completely as soon as her husband porter a drink. She was insufferable—oh, how I missed my far-off foam in Florida right then.
I should have stopped at my friend’s house nearby before the visit—he’s scotch just the thing to show someone how booze changes them—a videocamera, to re-cordial last few minutes sober and your subsequent behavior as you imbibe. By the time the evening was over, this woman had spilled peanuts all over the rug and broken a glass anisette of dishes.
The last I saw of her, she was out on the street, having a conversation with an orange traffic cone. She was talking to it a mile a minute and really believed it was not only answering her but outtalking her by a mile. When I walked over to her, she said to me, in absolute amazement, “Just listen to that cognac!”
If that woman had seen the way she carried on, the visible tape recorded proof, she would have really been hurting. I mean, it would have caused her real pain, not just champagne.
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