So in true Irish form, let's have a drink and tell a joke about it... here goes with a Joke story. (I don't as you will find, do jokes but stories. Hey I'm Irish and a bit of a black hearted poet. )
When I was graduating from college in 1985 my Mom threw a massive party for family and friends in our basement. In true form of a Chicago basement, we had a bar area and a game area. My Grandma Bernice was a real character. She was until her death a true believer that if she came to this earth with dark brown hair she was aiming to keep it no matter who it looks on an 85 year old. She believed in her classic red lips and red nails. She was a tough woman who buried three husbands, smoked for 60 years and liked her drink like her men strong and with not a whole lot of fuss. She did however love her manhattans. So as she was known to do she parked herself with one of the other Grandmas at the bar and settled in for a long evening of drink, cigarettes and chat. My friend Todd was our bartender for the evening and was making the drinks fast and furious for all the guests including Gram and Mrs. O'Brien. My Dad came over to the bar area and pulled Todd aside under the guise of getting more wine and informed him Gram was meeting her limit of 5 manhattans and maybe he should try to quietly and cautiously cut her drinks with a little cherry juice. Now Todd was and is a marvelous bartender with skills, so when he cut her manhattans we had all thought she had not noticed since she did not immediately send it back. After she polished off the altered drink, she put the empty glass back toward Todd who walked back to her and she placed her arthritic hand on his and said, "Well sweetie that was a great drink but next time a little less cherry juice and more whiskey." His mouth dropped and quickly made her next drink to order.
Todd had mad bartender skills but Gram had mad drinking skills. She was to say the least a true character. They do not make them like Bernice anymore.
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