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An Irishman walks into a bar in
Dublin, orders three pints of Guinness
and sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in
turn.
When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more.
The bartender approaches and tells him, "You know, a pint goes flat
after I draw it; it would taste better if you bought one at a time."
The Irishman replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in
America, the other in Australia, and I'm here in Dublin. When we all
left home, we promised that we'd drink this way to remember the days
when we drank together. So I drinks one for each o' me brothers and
one for me self."
The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.
The Irishman becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same
way:
He orders three pints and drinks them in turn.
One day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other regulars
take notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the
second round, the bartender says, "I don't wish to intrude on your
grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your great loss."
The Irishman looks quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawns in
his eye and he laughs. "Oh, no, everybody's just fine," he explains,
"it's just that me wife had us join the Baptist Church and I had to
quit drinking. Hasn't affected me brothers a bit though."
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