An Irishman walks into a bar in Dublin, orders three pints of Guinness
and sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in
turn. When he finished all three, he comes back to the bar and orders
three more.

The bartender says to him, "You know, a pint goes flat after I draw
it; it would taste better if you bought one at a time."

The Irishman replies, "Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in
America, the other in Australia, and I’m here in Dublin. When we all
left home, we promised that we’d drink this way to remember the days we
all drank together."

The bartender admits that this is a nice custom, and leaves it there.

The Irishman becomes a regular in the bar and always drinks the same
way: he orders three pints and drinks the three pints by taking drinks
from each of them in turn.

One day, he comes in and orders two pints. All the other regulars in
the bar notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the
second
round, the bartender says, "I don’t want to intrude on your grief, but
I wanted to offer my condolences on your great loss."

The Irishman looks confused for a moment, then a light dawns in his eye
and he laughs.

"Oh, no," he says, "Everyone is fine. It’s me..."



"....I’ve given up the drink."