The other week before going to a friend's birthday party, I popped into a (new) piano bar in a ritzy neighborhood near downtown to get a drink and pre-game.
I went in and asked the aging (gay?) (white) (male) bartender for their cheapest beer, my standard order.
"Nothing here is cheap," he said affably.
"Ok, then give me your cheapest you got," I was like, and he brought me a Miller Lite bottle (for $5.50).
"You know," I was like, "You can tell a lot about a man by the drink he orders."
"Yes!", he was like, smiling and laughing, "You are practical."
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