My Dear Friends,
A few days ago I stopped by a local bar and/or tavern. Kind of a nice nature to simply get off of ones feet and enjoy a cold beer. As always there is a quality of ongoing conversation within this quality of establishment. Sooo, the bartender and I struck up upon a degree of speaking with one another. Made pretty good sense seeing as to how he and I were the only two within the place, though.
“So, I ask of the bartender? Has anything of interest been going on of late? Not really, he replies but, there was one thing which happended that really did catch my attention, though. The bartender says, let me tell you this story, my friend.” And the following relates such:
My friend, just the other day I was getting ready to close the tavern for the day. Nothing out of the ordinary, mind you, just simply another day of doing business. What? Closing time is quickly approaching and my bartender friend is ready to call it quits for the day. Suddenly, a drunkard walks into the tavern, plops himself down upon a seat at the bar and absolutely demands a drink! The bartender indicates to the drunkard that it is closing time and that there are are no additonal qualities of drinks available. No luck, though. The drunkard continues to rant and rave for “a drink.”
Well, the bartender has gone through episodes such as this upon many occasions. Being well versed concerning this particular situation, the bartender resorts to his best option insofar as handling the situation. “My friend, says the bartender, I have got to close but, there is another tavern just down the road which will furnish you your drinks all night long. But, I have got to close, says the bartender.” The bartender indicates to the drunkard that the name of the tavern is the “Little Dinger Inn. So, off and out the door goes the drunkard. The bartender comes out from behind the bar, locks the door and goes home for the evening.
Now, the bartender arrives home and begins to relax for a peaceful, quiet period. He mixes himself an evening drink, gets todays newspaper and relaxes in his lounge chair. All is fine and well for a period of time but! Given a passage of time, the bartender begins to feel a degree of remorse. Simply, there just is not a place by the name of “The Little Dinger Inn.” Finally, the bartender can stand no more of his guilt for having lied to the poor drunkard. The bartender downs his drink, folds his evening paper and returns to the tavern. In quick fashion, the bartender picks up a couple of bottles of worthwhile drink and goes looking for the drunkard.
So, the bartender finds the drunkard lying in a ditch beside the road all brusied and cut up! Simply, the drunkard is in pretty bad shape. So, the bartender picks the drunk up and carries the poor soul back to his home. All this while the bartender is thinking, “this guy got run over by something in a bigtime way!”
Next, after a brief period of time; the bartender cleans the drunkard up. Takes care of the wounds and cleans the drunkard up and puts him in bed. After a bit of time, the drunk begins to come around and start to regain some of his senses. But, he is still a bit upon the woosy side, mind you. “Damnation” exclaims the bartender. “What happened to you!!!”
The drunkard indicated to the bartender. “Sir, I don`t really rightly know, myself. I was simply trying to find the place which you indicated to me and the last thing that I remember is this. I simply stopped at a car with a man and woman within such and asked, how far is the Little Dinger Inn?” `Nuff Said, my Friends…