So a string walks into a bar. He hops up on a barstool and says, “Gimme a beer.”
The bartender looks at him, frowns, and says, “You’re gonna have to leave. We don’t serve strings here.”
The string says, “OK,” and hops off the barstool. He goes out the door and around the corner, ties himself a couple of times, frazzles himself at both ends, and goes back into the bar. He hops up on a barstool and says, “Gimme a beer.”
The bartender says, “Aren’t you the same string that I just sent out the door a minute ago?”
The string smiles and says, “No, I’m a frayed knot.” J.
Doctor Edgar Fuller MD limited himself to one alcoholic beverage a week. Every Friday afternoon, he would stop at a neighborhood bar on his way home and order one drink—generally a rum-and-cola or gin-and-tonic, but sometimes he tried other drinks. The bartender expected Doctor Fuller every Friday, greeting him invariably with, “Howdy, Doc: what’re you having today?”
One Friday the good doctor felt like trying something different. When the bartender asked the usual question, he answered, “What do you recommend today?”
The bartender smiled. “I’m just branching out into something new,” he boasted. “We’ve always served fruit-flavored daiquiris: lime, or strawberry, even apple. But now I’ve got some new and interesting flavors: almond, pine, hickory…”
“That sounds interesting,” the doctor said. “I’ll try the hickory flavor.”
The bartender poured some rum into a shaker, added a little syrup, and shook the drink vigorously. He dropped some ice into a glass and poured the drink onto the ice. Then he slid the drink across the counter to his customer. “Here you go,” the bartender announced. “It’s a hickory daiquiri, Doc.” J.