A man who is obviously as drunk as a skunk, walks into the front door of a bar.
He staggers up to the bar, somehow manages to seat himself on a stool, and with a belch, asks the bartender for a drink of whisky.
The bartender politely informs the man that it appears he has already had plenty to drink, and that he cannot not be served additional liquor.
The bartender politely offers to call a cab for him.
The drunk is briefly surprised, then softly scoffs, grumbles, climbs down from the bar stool, and staggers out the front door.
A few minutes later, the same drunk stumbles in the side door of the bar. He wobbles up to the bar and hollers for a drink.
The bartender comes over, and still politely if not more firmly, refuses service to the man and again offers to call a cab.
The drunk looks at the bartender for a moment angrily, curses, and shows himself out the side door, all the while grumbling and shaking his head.
A few minutes later, the same drunk bursts in through the back door of the bar. He plops himself up on a bar stool, gathers his wits and belligerently orders a drink.
The bartender comes over to him, and emphatically reminds the man that he is drunk, and will be served no drinks. He then tells him that he can either call a cab or the police immediately.
The surprised drunk looks at the bartender and in hopeless anguish cries, “Man! How many bars do you work at?”
