This actually happened on St. Patrick’s Day at a bar in Brooklyn. My girlfriend decided to go home early, but I wasn’t done with the bars in the least. I carefully made my way back to my own neighborhood and lurked around the corner to the smelly college-type bar full of people who are much too old to need cheap drinks. Wait, I can’t front, everyone likes and wants cheap drinks; I don’t know who I’m trying to kid.

So as I take my seat at the bar the consistently antagonistic bartender says, “This bar doesn’t serve Democrats! Why are you wearing that button?”

I explain, and actually I am getting quite good at it.

The bartender must be very drunk, but I am happy when he announces, “That is the first intelligent thing I’ve heard all night–your drinks are on me.”

Hard to imagine there wasn’t much intelligent conversation going on at a bar on St. Patrick’s Day. Either way, though, I am grateful that I was able to slam down about 5 rounds before the bar shut a couple hours later.