A man walks into a bar…

… in the early afternoon and walks over to the landlord, who is stood behind the bar polishing a couple of glasses. The man straightens his tie and his round wire-framed glasses and then puts his briefcase down on the floor.

“Good afternoon, sir”, says the landlord, “What can I get you?”

“A large measure of your finest malt whisky please kind sir,” says the stranger.

The landlord pours him a double of the Bruichladdich ‘Flirtation’ and puts it down in front of him. Quick as a flash, the stranger has picked up the glass and emptied it down his throat before the landlord has had a chance to speak.

“Er… thats four-fifty mate”, says the landlord.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t owe you anything.” says the indignant customer.

“How d’you work that out then, Sherlock?” asks the landlord.

“You clearly asked what you could get for me. As you’re offering to get it for me, it was clearly proferred as a gift, and not as an invitation to a transaction. I should know, I’m Robert M. Howard, attorney-at-law.”

“I don’t care who you bleeding are. You either pay for your drinks or you get barred. It’s your choice.”

“And I…” says the man, looking haughtily down his nose at the landlord, “…don’t much care for your attitude. If this is the way you treat invited guests, I rather think I shall leave.”

And with that, he picks up his briefcase again and marches straight out the door.

Later that night, the landlord is recounting the unusual experience to some of his regulars, when he sees what he thinks is the same man enter the bar again, except this time he’s dressed casually, with jeans and an open-necked shirt.

“Here, George,” he says, nudging the barfly, “I think that’s the same bloke. I’m going to go over and have words with him…”

So he goes over to where the man — and he’s almost positive it is the same man — is standing ramrod straight at the other end of the bar. “‘Ere, didn’t I tell you to sling yer hook?”

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t understand.” The man sounds puzzled, but he’s also speaking in the same voice as the earlier visitor…

“You was in here at lunchtime, weren’t you? And you wouldn’t pay for yer drinks, so I told you to buzz off!”

“Again sir, you have the advantage of me. I most certainly was not in this bar at lunchtime, and indeed have never been in this bar on any lunchtime — or evening before”, said the stranger in a firm and sincere — and yet very familiar — voice.

“Is that right?”

The man nodded.

“Bloody Hellfire!”, roared the landlord, “In that case you must have a double!”

“That’s most kind of you”, said the man “I’ll have that Bruichladdich again, then.”