An Irishman walked into a bar in Dublin, ordered three pints of Guinness and sat at the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finished them, he came back to the bar and ordered three more.
The bartender approached and told him: “You know, a pint goes flat after I draw it, and it would taste better if you bought one at a time.”
The Irishman replied: “Well, you see, I have two brothers. One is in America, the other is in Australia, and I’m in Dublin. When we all left home, we promised that we’d drink this way to remember the days we drank together. So I drink one for each me brothers and one for me self.”
The bartender admitted that this was a fine tradition, and left it there. The Irishman became a regular in the bar, and always drank the same way: He ordered three pints and drank them in turn.
One day, he came in and ordered two pints. All the other regulars took notice and fell silent.
When he came back to the bar for the second round, the bartender said: “I don’t want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your loss.”
The Irishman looked quite puzzled for a moment, then a light dawned and he laughed. “Oh, no, everybody’s just fine,” he explained.
“It’s just that my wife had us join that Baptist Church and I had to quit drinking. But it hasn’t affected my brothers though.”