The Bad Kind Of Bar Crawl

(I am a member of a guild, and as such I can’t enjoy adult beverages while on duty. After a very long day I’m finally done with my work at around 6:10, and in search of a pint of golden goodness. I walk to the first pub.)

Me: “Can I get a [beer]?”

Wench: “Oh, sorry, I just closed down. The [second pub] should still be open though!”

(I hustle over to the second pub at 6:15.)

Me: “Are you still open?”

Wench: “Just cleaning up, sorry. The [third pub] might still have their taps up!”

(I run to the third pub at 6:20.)

Me: “You guys closed?”

Wench: “Yeah, but the [fourth pub] is closest to front gate, so they’re open the latest.”

Me: “Thanks!”

(I sprint to the fourth pub at 6:25, where the barmaid is leaning on the tip box, watching a street show.)

Wench: “What can I get for you?”

Me: “You’re my favorite! I’ll have a [beer].”

Wench: “Oh, sorry. Only soda left.”

Me: “Oh.”

Wench: “Yeah, we can’t serve alcohol after 6:15.”

Me: “I came from the other side of the faire, and every pub I went to said the next along [road] should be open.”

Wench: “Yeah, they say that so you’ll leave quicker.”

Me: “It worked. I’ll have a [soda] please.”

(The kicker? If I had taken a different path, I could have been from the first pub to the fourth within three minutes.)