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Happy Hour

Four old retired guys are walking down a street in Manchester. They turn a corner and see a sign that says, ‘Old Timers Bar – all drinks 10 pence’.

They look at each other, and then go in, thinking this is too good to be true.

The old barman says in a voice that carries across the room, ‘Come on in and let me pour you a drink! What’ll it be, Gentlemen?’

There seemed to be a fully-stocked bar, so each of the men ordered a pint of bitter. In short order, the bartender serves up four pints of bitter and says, ‘That’ll be 10 pence each, please.’

The four men stare at the bartender for a moment. Then look at each other. They can’t believe their good luck. They pay the 40 pence, finish their pints, and order another round.

Again, four excellent pints are produced with the bartender again saying, ‘That’s 40 pence, please.’ They pay the 40 pence, but their curiosity is more than they can stand. They have each had two pints and so far they have spent less than a pound.

Finally one of the men says, ‘How can you afford to serve pints as good as these for 10 pence each?’

‘Well, I’m a retired tailor from Nottingham,’ the bartender said, ‘and I always wanted to own a bar. Last year I hit the Lottery for 125 million and decided to open this place. Every drink costs 10 pence ……wine, spirits, beer, it’s all the same.’

‘Wow! That’s quite a story’, says one of the men.

The four of them guzzled at their pints and couldn’t help but notice seven other people at the end of the bar who didn’t have drinks in front of them, and hadn’t ordered anything the whole time they were there.

One man gestures at the seven at the end of the bar without drinks and asks the barman, ‘What’s the story with those blokes ?”

The barman says, ‘Oh, those guys, they’re all retired coalminers from Scotland. They’re waiting for Happy Hour when drinks are half price.”

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