Back in the early 70s my wife Sue and I were in a piano bar in Honolulu, and for no reason other than that's what I was into back then, I got absolutely blitzed.
As luck would have it, the mens room door happened to be held open by several stacked boxes, which turned out be cases of liquor. As I left the facilities, I reached 2 feet over my head into the top case and extracted a bottle of Chivas, my favorite Scotch!
I was in a tank top and shorts and God knows how but I managed to exit the bar without anyone, including Sue and the couple we were with, noticing what I'd done!
The next day my conscience and the hangover meant forJudas gnawed at me with a vengeance. By early evening I could no longer stand it. I returned to the scene of my crime, the piano bar.
Having already cracked the bottle, I couldn't return it but I asked for the manager, told him what I'd done and praying he wouldn't kill me, handed him a fistful of bills. The guy was a giant Samoan and I was sweating bullets as he came around the counter.
I really thought I was about to die but he gave me a huge hug, thanked me for my honesty and said, "That's great brah, but you grabbed a 12 year old bottle of Chivas. You owe me another eight bucks!"
Sue gave the bar manager a twenty and we were gone. As we litertaly ran out the door, we could hear everyone behind us roaring with laughter!
5 years later, we had an overnight layover in Honolulu on our way to Maui. Upon our arrival, Sue was tired so she took an early evening nap and I went for a walk. Imagine my surprise to find that same little piano bar, right where we'd left it! I decided to check the place out.
The moment I entered I was stunned to find little had changed. The bar and the staff appeared to be the same bunch as before. The manager recognized me immediatey and roared,"Hey, brah, how's it? Look at you! C'mon, have a Chivas on me....but stay the hell outta the bathroom!"
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