For Want of a Drink
Created | Updated Mar 1, 2011
Prof Animal Chaos is at it again. Making me laugh so I spill my drink.
My tipple of choice is non-diet Coca Cola. I realize that he would not approve of this, but he's a good friend and a tolerant fellow, so I'm sure he will forgive me..
The Prof comes from Yorkshire, an interesting place. For the benefit of those not from Yorkshire – especially my fellow North Americans – I have added a few notes by way of anthropological gloss. I hope these will elucidate the cultural context without detracting from the robust experience of a Prof anecdote. – DG
For Want of a Drink
After walking in to a high-class, swanky tavern in the upper-echelon quarter of town1, I stepped up to the bar, where a barman approached and asked what I would like to drink.
To which I replied, "I would like a whisky with ice, please," at which he turned and proceeded to the rear of the bar where the optics2 and other assorted items were adorned on the shelving.
The barman then asked, looking over his shoulder, if I wanted a slice of orange in it, I said no, thank you.
Whereupon he then added the slice of orange, followed by a slice of lemon. I said, "I don't want anything in the drink," in a loudish voice that I'm sure he heard.
Then comes along a cherry to be added, closely followed by some other liquids.
At this time, still no ice had been added, he then continued to add the proverbial umbrella3, a plastic stirring implement, a sprig of mint, placing the glass on a side plate with a slice of cucumber, a quarter of a lime, plus a small pile of salt at the side of the glass and before turning back to my direction, the ice was finally added4.
"Here you are, sir! Your drink!"
"That is NOT my drink!"
"Yes it is, sir, it's what you ordered."
"No, it isn't!"
"Sir! Your drink is £19.55, please."
"That is NOT my drink! Are you deaf?"
"Just a moment, sir!" And he goes to talk with another barman, who along with him walks over to where I'm stood5.
So this white-shirted, bow-tied, greasy-combed back-haired, nose-so-high-in-the-air-that-it's-got-a-red-warning-light-on-it-for-low-flying-aircraft opens his mouth and says:
"Sir! We seem to have a little difficulty here, Maureece (Maurice to us6) says you will not pay for your drink?"
"That is NOT my drink, it is NOT the drink I ordered and NOT the drink I expected."
"But, sir, Maureece says that is what you ordered."
"Well! Tell Maureeeece he should get his ear wax removed, or you should retrain him in the art of barmanship, as when Maureeeeeece asked what I would like to drink, to which I answered "a whisky with ice" in a clear plain voice as not to be misunderstood by the simplest of persons.
"As to which Maureeeeeeeece took it unto himself to add a fruit plantation and various liquid distillates from around the world and a large amount of recycled plastic objects7.
"That is in no way a whisky and ice, as to what I asked and ordered.
"NOW! Are you going to get my drink – a single measure of whisky, with
approximately two ice cubes added to the liquid – or not ?"
"Maureece! Will you GET this gentleman one Scotch on the rocks?"
Maureeeeeeeeeece does as he is asked and, on presenting said drink on the bar in front of me, says, " YOUR drink, sir, and that will be £5.67 please."
"NAH! You can pour it back in to the optic, Maureeeeeeeeeeeece, as if in a drought! You get too thirsty in this place waiting for a drink, so I'll go elsewhere.
"Oh! And after watching other patron tipping the bar personnel, here's my tip! Go take up skydiving – and if you enjoy it after the first jump, do a second one and with that one, use a parachute8."
It's all fictitious, unless it's happened to you or someone you know, and if that be the case, all names and prices have been changed to protect the innocent9.
No animals were injured during the making of this anecdote10, and anyone reading this, either living or dead, can do so at their own discretion.
PS: Those who are observant will have noticed neither I or the two barmen asked if the whisky was to be a single malt or blended variety. That was a deliberate action on my part, just to put a bit of mystery into it11.
PPS: The umbrella and plastic objects were recyclable, but as to whether the staff put them in the recycle bin or not, is another question.
