It was nearly midnight when an old man stumbled through the doors of Murphy's Bar.
His gray hair stuck out in every direction, his shirt was half untucked, and his face had the unmistakable glow of someone who had spent the entire evening becoming close friends with alcohol.
The conversations around the bar quieted for a moment as he shuffled toward the counter.
The bartender looked up and sighed.
"Oh no."
The old man slapped a hand on the bar.
"Bartender!" he shouted. "Get me a tequila!"
The bartender hesitated.
"Are you sure you've had enough already?"
"Did I ask for life advice?" the old man barked. "I asked for tequila!"
Shaking his head, the bartender poured a shot and slid it across the counter.
The old man grabbed it and swallowed it in one motion.
Then he slowly turned around and surveyed the room.
Near the back sat three large men enjoying a quiet evening together. They were broad-shouldered, tough-looking fellows who seemed perfectly content minding their own business.
The old man's eyes locked onto the first man.
He pointed dramatically.
"You!"
The entire bar turned to look.
The first man raised an eyebrow.
The old man grinned.
"I slept with your mother!"
The room went silent.
Several people nearly dropped their drinks.
The bartender froze.
Everyone expected an explosion.
Instead, the man simply looked at the old drunk for a second, shrugged, and went back to drinking his beer.
The old man looked disappointed.
Then he spun back toward the bar.
"Bartender! Another tequila!"
The bartender frowned.
"I think you've had enough."
"One more!"
Against his better judgment, the bartender poured another shot.
The old man threw it back instantly.
Then he turned toward the three men again.
This time he pointed at the second man.
"You!"
The second man sighed.
The old man grinned even wider.
"Your mother absolutely adored me!"
Several customers gasped.
One woman covered her mouth.
The second man slowly looked at the old drunk.
Then, without saying a word, he took another sip of beer.
The old man seemed almost offended by the lack of reaction.
He slammed his hand on the bar.
"Another tequila!"
The bartender crossed his arms.
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Pretty please?"
The bartender rolled his eyes.
"Fine. Last one."
The old man grabbed the third shot and emptied it immediately.
His face turned bright red.
Then he spun around once more.
The entire bar watched.
This time he pointed directly at the third man.
"You!"
The third man looked up.
The old man laughed loudly.
"I've spent more time with your mother than any man alive!"
The room exploded into whispers.
People shifted in their seats.
Someone muttered, "This isn't going to end well."
The three large men exchanged glances.
Then, at the same time, they stood up.
Chairs scraped across the floor.
The old man looked nervous for the first time all night.
The bartender ducked behind the counter.
Several customers moved farther away.
The three men slowly walked toward the old man.
One stood on his left.
One stood on his right.
One directly in front of him.
The old man swallowed hard.
The entire bar held its breath.
Then the man in the middle put a hand on the old man's shoulder and sighed.
"Come on, Dad."
The old man blinked.
The bar blinked.
Everyone blinked.
The second man shook his head.
"You've had way too much to drink."
The third man picked up the old man's coat.
"Mom's going to kill you when we get home."
For a moment, the room was completely silent.
Then the entire bar erupted with laughter.
Even the bartender doubled over.
As the three sons escorted their father toward the door, the old man turned back one last time and shouted:
"Hey bartender!"
The bartender wiped tears from his eyes.
"What now?"
The old man grinned.
"Put their tab on their mother's account!"
The laughter somehow got even louder.
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