As a frequent business traveler, I seek out small, quiet local places to eat in the cities I visit rather than the impersonal and often over priced hotel dining rooms. On my first visit to Dublin, I asked some one on the street for a dinner suggestion and they pointed me to a near by public house known for it’s local color and sandwiches. Off went ! The place fit my specs and poured a great glass of Guinness.
While at the bar, I couldn’t help over hearing a discussion between two men that went something like this -
Man 1 : “I’m from Dublin. So are ya from Dublin too?”
Man 2: “Yes I am, fancy that, will ya!”
Man 1 : So what parish did ya grow up in?
Man 2 : St Mary’s.
Man 1: St Mary’s!!?? Bejesus. Me too!! Did ya have Sister Agnes in grade 4?
Man 2 : Sister Agnes?! God man. Figure that?! I haven’t tot of her name in years. I had her too.
Man 1 : I don’t suppose ya know Billy Hale? I played footie wit him.
Man 2 : Billy Hale’s me best friend! Jesus, Mary and Joseph! What a coincidence! ...................
As the two kept talking and found out how much in common they had with each other, their voices got louder and louder and more excited. So much so, I finally had to ask the bartender, “What’s up with those two?”.
“Them two?”, he said. “Oh, it’s just the Flannigan twins, drunk again!”
An Irishman has recently moved to New York. Every night he goes to the bar down the street from his apartment, orders three beers at once, and sits at his table taking a drink from each one in turn. After a while, the barkeep notices this and decides he needs to find out why this Irish fellow follows this somewhat unusual practice.
“Well,” says the Irishman, “my two brothers and I left Belfast earlier this year to seek our fortunes elsewhere. I came here to New York, Seamus moved to London, and Patrick went to Sydney. We all agreed that we’d do this at our local bar every day after work sort of as a way of having a pint together.”
The bartender says, “Well, that’s a neat idea!”
A few weeks later, the Irishman comes into the bar, but this time he only orders two beers. The bartender decides to take him his beers himself rather than have one of the waitresses take them.
He sets the two beers in front of the Irishman and says, “I’m so sorry.”
“About what?” asks the Irishman.
“About your brother,” the barkeep says. “You’ve only ordered two today, so something must have happened to him.”
“Oh, no, my brothers are fine,” says the Irishman. “I’ve given up drinkin’ for Lent.”