HUSBAND DRINKING: HOW TO SNEAK OUT FOR BEERS THE RIGHT WAY

Two men walked into a bar for some husband drinking, a couple of silhouettes in the glaring sun. They looked like two weekend yard guys at happy hour, jeans and t-shirts, mid-fifties.

In different clothes they’d fit in at any country club. Tight haircuts and smooth shaves do that.

One ordered a Black and Tan, the other a PBR.

“You know they’ve got real beer here?”

“It’s a taste test baseline. I like the worst beer to begin with. PBR sets the standard for consistency. If a craft beer isn’t better than a PBR, you’ve got a problem.”

“Sure. Anyway, how’d you get out for a beer?”

“I asked my wife if she’d like to go to the pub, which gave her a dinner idea with her girlfriends. I snuck out while she was on the phone. Probably called your wife.”

“She did.”

“How’d you get out?”

Husband Drinking Escape Plan

“I mowed the yard, planted a few things, then heard your wife on the phone. I told my wife you’d probably sneak out and I should meet you so you wouldn’t drink too much.”

“Excellent. First round on me.”

Two pint glasses slid across the upper bar, one full of light golden liquid with a white foam top. The other looked like a chemistry class experiment.

The bottom of the glass held a deep golden liquid separated in the middle with a thick, dark, fluid on top with no foam, like honey and motor oil.

“Cheers.”

“May the road rise up . . .”

“Ok, ok, just cheers.”

“Cheers, then. No Irish blessing for you, and you’ll need it after that Black and Tan mess.”

“Probably. I’ve got a question.”

“I hope you’ve got something after cutting off Ireland.”

“Have you ever been discriminated against?”

“Here we go, two white guys talking about discrimination and The Man.”

“Something happened and I want to know. I don’t think I’ve been discriminated on, but maybe.”

“Did you get a door slammed in your face, a water jet, dogs, or a bullet?”

“None of that. So I’m with my kid Ralph, right?”

“Okay, right.”

Husband Drinking Talk

“We were getting an early dinner before an evening thing, an event.”

“Got it. Early dinner, evening event.”

“We’re in a chain place, probably a regional deal. Maybe national, I don’t know. But it’s a sit down place and we’re the only ones there, Ralph and I.”

“Ought to be good service.”

“That’s what I thought. Ought to be good service. Ralph looks good. He’s twenty. He ought to look good.”

“Great looking kid.”

“That’s right. So we get the menus and see what we want. No one comes to the table. Ralph hits the can and comes back. No one takes our order. We wait fifteen minutes in an empty place, which made it feel longer.”

“No one?”

“We finally order. And wait more. I asked the waitress if our order was lost. She said no, it’s cooking.”

“And you’re the only ones there.”

“Ralph and I. By now I’ve counted three waitresses. Maybe a couple of other people, but mostly empty.”

“And you stick around?”

“I didn’t want fast food. So our plates are in the service window under the sun lamps. No one shows up. After five more minutes we leave.”

“Got up and left?”

“Like that.”

“Finally.”

“But why weren’t they getting to our table? I think it was discrimination.”

“Really?”

“We were abandoned because we didn’t look right.”

“Father and son discrimination?”

“Or Sugar Daddy discrimination.”

“What? No.”

“We were in the car once and drove past someone he knew. She waved, then sent a quick text, “Please tell me that was your father.”

“Like you’re a couple?”

“Something. I’ll tell you this: I didn’t like it. Being ignored and accused of things, getting partitioned to places no one wants. It’s not right.”

“It’s still early, but this might be the big story: Discrimination Hurts More Than Feelings.”

“It does. Do I look like anyone’s Sugar Daddy?”

“Not sure what kind oF daddy, but sugar isn’t my first choice.”

“With my kid, no less.”

“Did you two talk about it?”

“Yes. He thought me being a Sugar Daddy was funny until I pointed out his role.”

“Not so funny then?”

“It was for me.”

“Did you tell Betty-Lou?”

“Yes, now she wants to go back and see if I get discriminated against as a pimp or a John.”

“There’s a difference?”

“And this is why we sneak out on our wives for some husband drinking.”

“Cheers to that. They’re on their way now. We’ll get some burgers and play shuffleboard.”

“It sounds so easy.”

“Ought to be like this for everyone.”