Roy walked in the front door of a bar, obviously drunk. He staggered up to the bar, sat on a stool, belched, and asked the bartender for a drink. The bartender politely informed Roy that it appeared that he had already had plenty to drink, he could not be served additional liquor at this bar, and could a cab be called for him.

Roy was briefly surprised, then softly scoffed, grumbled, climbed off the bar stool and staggered out the front door.

A few minutes later, Roy stumbled in the side door of the same bar. He wobbled up to the bar and hollered for a drink.

The bartender came over and, still politely but more firmly, refused service to him due to his inebriation, and again offered to call a cab.

Roy looked at the bartender for a moment angrily, cursed, and showed himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head.

A few minutes later, Roy burst through the back door of the bar. He plopped himself on a bar stool, gathered his wits and belligerently ordered a drink. The bartender came over and emphatically reminded him that he was clearly drunk, would be served no drinks, and either a cab or the police would be called immediately.

Roy looked at the bartender, and in hopeless anguish, cried, "Man! How many bars do you work at!"

Received from Steve Sanderson.

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