The grimly lit bar buzzed a quiet conversation as a well -dressed man walked, his self -confident step, and a sharp look indicated a sophisticated taste.
He sat at the counter and adjusted his cuffs with accuracy before he cleaned his throat. The bartender, who sensed the demanding customer, proceeded with a polite nodding. He knew a little that this man was about to give patience – and the choice of liqueur – for the final test.
The man enters the bar and orders a glass of 21 -year -old whiskey.
He takes a sip, but immediately spits.
“I asked for 21 -year -old whiskey! It’s only 18 years old. I won’t pay for that!
The bartender bursts, but the man spits him again.
“This is only 10 years old! I don’t even pay for it!”
After several rounds of the same routine, bartender, now frustrated, pours another drink and says,
“This one is in the house.”
The man sipped and then spat him again.
“It tastes like a piss!”
The bartender sighs and corresponds to
“Okay, Genius, now guess how old I’m?”
The bar explodes with laughter when the male smug expression decreases. He realized that he was exceeded, shake his head, laughter, and finally accepts defeat. The bartender grins and wipes the counter and knew he laughed for the last time.