A man had moved to the States and was dreadfully lonely:
One evening on the way home from work he took a new route and passed a pub. He strolled in and felt right at home.
He went to the bar and asked the keeper. “Sir, could you pour me three rounds o’ your best whiskey?:
The bar keeper obliged.
The man quickly downed the rounds, said his thanks, left his tip and strolled out the door.
He did this again the following day, and the next, and the next.
One day the barkeeper asked the man why he always came in, ordered three shots of whiskey, quickly drank them, and then left.
The man replied. “You see, back home in Dublin my elderly father, brother and I all worked in the same shop. On the way home we would always duck into the pub and have a quick dram before going home to the missus. I miss my family and I’m drinking in honour of them.”
Deeply touched the barkeeper told him today’s drinks were on him.
The man continued this routine until Spring.
Then one day he came in and ordered two drinks.
The barkeeper was taken aback. He’d already set the glasses when he saw the man stroll into the bar. His eyes moistened. He asked the Irishman. “Was it your dad? Has he p*ss*d?”
The man looking somber and grieving replied. “Ah, no. It is just that I’ve been to the doctor and he said I must quit drinking.” 😅🤣
