The Gun Counter

The subject says it all..

I'll leave it at that.

Well, don't leave us hanging --tell us the "real story " !!

Moderators, Please move to "Random".

Well, that was certainly enlightening.......

Until he fesses up, we might as well tell some bar stories.

I was tending bar at an American Legion one time, and these guys are getting into a really serious argument about the difference between the Spanish insults "puto" and "pendejo." Back and forth, back and forth, and one of them says, "I always thought 'puto' was a guy who sleeps with other people's wives," and the guy turns to me and says, "Barkeep, what do YOU think?"

I quietly said, "Naw. A pendejo is a a guy who sleeps with other people's wives. A 'puto' is the guy who sleeps with YOUR wife!" It was funny to a bunch of drunk guys, and I made a killing in tips that night.

OK, here's mine:

A know a guy who tends bar, so I often stop by during his shift. He and I are fans of competing baseball teams (Mets for me, Yankees for him), so there's usually a bit of good-natured teasing about our respective teams shortcomings during the season. Well, a couple years ago I was busting his chops and the young lady next to me (who'd been there QUITE a while) said "Don't you go talking about MY Yankees! I'll beat you up, and I'll have my guys come over here and beat you up." Moral of the story: The best way to stay out of a fight with three drunken, hormone laden, team-spirit enthralled guys is to make them really believe that not only are you ready, willing, and able to put barstools in places on their anatomy that would require the services of a good proctologist for retrieval, but that you'd enjoy doing so.

Further observations:
Anyone who gets into a fist-fight over a sports team is a jerk.

Anyone who gets into a fist-fight over a sports team because a woman told him to is a bigger jerk.

Anyone, of any gender, who decides to use me for a punching bag is going to meet resistance.

This story starts in a bar, anyway...

After work one day, I met Jennifer and one of her coworker/buddies at the local bar for refreshments. While I was waiting for the two of them, I ran into a couple of guys that I went to high school with. Jennifer and her friend were in a work-sponsored yoga program, and came to the bar straight from yoga, all limbered up. I introduced them to my high school friends and Jennifer said, "This is my friend [redacted], she can put her feet behind her head." The friend proceeded to prove this physical attribute. The one of my high school buddies and her have been inseparable ever since. At the time, I said that I'd give them six months tops. That was about eight years ago. They've gotten married, I believe they are on their second kid, and they've moved off to some exotic locale together. I was curious about their mysterious success. Come to find out, early on they decided to base their relationship on my relationship with Jennifer. I don't know whether to be flattered or creeped out!

Evyl Robot wrote:This story starts in a bar, anyway...

I don't know whether to be flattered or creeped out!

why choose? you can be flattered and creeped out at the SAME time.

I actually don't have a story to tell.

I went to a local watering hole just to get out of my temporary quarters and wrote a large rant about flies, idjits and the random stupidity that was flowing that night..

I decided to delete it once I realized I was ranting about really stupid drunks who went to that specific bar to get stupid drunk so what was the point.

Don't get me wrong, a good bar is a good thing. This bar however was full a idiots, the Long Island's sucked and the domestic drafts were $3.75. Maybe I was just pissed about the drinks.

Ben Rumson wrote:I actually don't have a story to tell.

I went to a local watering hole just to get out of my temporary quarters and wrote a large rant about flies, idjits and the random stupidity that was flowing that night..

I decided to delete it once I realized I was ranting about really stupid drunks who went to that specific bar to get stupid drunk so what was the point.

Don't get me wrong, a good bar is a good thing. This bar however was full a idiots, the Long Island's sucked and the domestic drafts were $3.75. Maybe I was just pissed about the drinks.

$3.75 for a draft beer? You went to a cheap place!

OK, 'nother story. One night on my way home I had time to kill, so I stopped in a bar near the train station (I usually go a couple blocks to a different place, but didn't have too much time, so I just went across the street). I asked the bartender what was on happy hour, he said everything was half-price. I saw a Sierra Nevada Pale Ale tap, so I ordered a pint. He bring my beer and says "that'll be $4.00." I replied "I thought you said everything was half-price?" and he said "That IS half-price. This is Hoboken you know."

Now, my usual place, two blocks away, sells a pint of Guiness for $5.00 regular, $2.50 happy hour. And Hoboken may not be the armpit of NJ, but you can smell it from there.