A fella had moved to Texas from Wyoming and after he and his family had settled in he found himself a local bar visited by people he thought he’d like well enough to hang out with.
For his very first order he had three draft beers but to the bartender’s surprise he sat there taking a sip from each in rotation till all was gone. Then he ordered a second trio.
“Sir,” the bartender spoke hesitantly, “when I pour these they start to go flat. If you ordered just one at a time they’d taste better.”
The man waved his hand dismissively: “I have two brothers, one on Arizona and the other now in Colorado. We used to drink together all the time back home and when we started moving away we started drinking like this so we’re still drinking together even though apart.”
“You’re drinking your brothers’ beer?”
“You got it! And they drink mine the same.”
For several years the man was a regular, always with his three mugs at a time, but one day he came in and only ordered two.
There was dead silence in the bar and finally the bartender found his voice and offered the man condolences for his loss. Others followed suit.
The man just stood there for a moment but suddenly laughed.
“Oh, no, we’re all fine! Me and the missus just joined a Baptist congregation and I’ve had to give up beer.”
He took a sip from each.
“Doesn’t affect my brothers though…”
