Sooooooo.... Last night I'm at the bar, alone, minding my own business, when the man next me decides he want to talk. I don't go to the bar to talk, I go to the bar to get hammered. Try as I may to drown out his incessant yapping with scotch, it avails me not. He keep on yapping, and yapping, and yapping, until at last I decide to turn around and indulge his drunk ass. Now children, I'd like to think that I'm fairly tolerant individual. However, even I have my limits. I don't give a shit about what he has to say for two reasons. The fist being that he's a guy. The second reasons is pretty much the same as the first, but let's not split hairs. Anyway, I figure that if I can't DROWN him out, I'll DRINK him out. I order a round of Drambuie for the both of us. I can tell he's a cheap beer man, by the effluvium lingering on his breath. He sniffs his shot, gets nauseous, and stumbles his way to the john. Just as I had hoped. In turn I down both shots, throw some money at the waitress, and leave before he has a chance to come back. I tell you children, the things I do just to be left alone. *sigh*