Many years ago, after my granddad retired, it didn’t take long being under granny’s foot when she tried to do her housework she issued an ultimatum… get a part time job or she’d make his life even more miserable than she already did. Being a fan of drinking beer, he got a job part-time tending bar at a tavern named Kelly Malone’s. Typical neighborhood place. Juke box, pool tables, a bowling machine and there was a moose head high on the wall,about 12-15 feet. St Patrick’s Day was like Christmas, New Years and the Fourth of July all rolled into one. The free corned beef and green beer flowed. It wasn’t a good day unless the local constabulary had to intervene at some point.
The second holiday he worked there he came home and said ‘You won’t believe what happened.’
‘What?’
‘Somebody got that damn moosehead down off the wall and stole it.’
It must have gotten really drunk outside. Imagine sobering up and finding a nasty,moth-eaten head in your living room and you can’t remember how it got there. Beer has been making people act stupidly for thousands of years.
