Late one Friday in Dublin, a policeman spotted a man driving very erratically.
He pulled the man over and asked him if he had been drinking that evening.
”Aye, so I have. ‘Ties Friday, you know, so me and the lads stopped by the
pub where I had six or seven pints. And then there was something called ‘Happy
Hour’ and they served these mar-gar-itos, which are quite good. I had four or
five o’ those. Then I had to drive me friend Mike home and o’ course I had to go
in for a couple of Guinness — couldn’t be rude, ye know. Then I stopped on the
way home to get another bottle for later…” And the man fumbled around in his
coat until he located his bottle of whiskey, which he held up for inspection.
The officer sighed, and said, ”Sir, I’m afraid I’ll need you to step out of the
car and take a breathalyzer test.”
”Why? Don’t ye believe me?”