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 finished all three, he comes back to the bar and orders three
more.
The bartender says to 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 we all drank together.”
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 the three pints by taking drinks from each
of them in turn.
One day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other regulars in the
bar notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the second
round, the bartender says, “I don’t want to intrude on your grief, but I
wanted to offer my condolences on your great loss.”
The Irishman looks confused for a moment, then a lights dawns in his eye
and he laughs. “Oh, no,” he says, “Everyone is fine. It’s me…”
“…I’ve quit drinking!”
