Friday, March 17, 2006
An Irish gent walked into a neighborhood bar in New York one evening and ordered three mugs of beer.
When they were served he took them to a back table, and sat by himself drinking from one mug, then the next until all three were empty. Then he returned to the bar and ordered three more.
The bartender told him, "Sir, I am happy to serve you, but if you order one beer at a time it will stay fresher than if you take three at once."
The fellow replied, "No, and ye don't understand. I'm one of three broithers, separated by the great sea. Me oldest brother emigrated to Australia many years ago. My youngest brother still lives with me mother in COunty COrk, and here I am in America. Still, we agreed that on every Friday, we would each order two beers apiece and drink them inmemory of the brothers who were not with us."
The whole bar had listened to this explanation.
For months each Friday the Irishman would show up in late afternoon. Order his three beers. Drink them. Order his three refills. Drink them. Then leave the bar.
Then one Friday, the Irishman walked to the bar and ordered two beers. The whole pub grew silent and watched as he silently drank the two beers.
When he returned to the bar for his refills the bartender said, "Paddy, I want to offer my condolences in your time of sorrow."
The Irishman looked puzzled, and asked "What do ye mean?"
"Well, you only ordered two beers. I assume something must have happened to one of your brothers."
"Oh, no, nothing of the sort! Me wife converted to Baptist, and I've had to give up me drinking. Didn't affect me brothers though."