April 17, 2006

A Jersey Bar Tale.

Filed under: Uncategorized — Jim @ 8:35 pm

At about ten minutes before closing time in Donovan’s Pub in Jersey City, Joe Crook enters the bar, pulls a gun on Mike the owner/bartender and says, “Empty the register.  Now!”

Mike:  “OK, buddy.  Take it easy.  Stay calm.  I’ll cooperate.  Just be careful with that gun.”

Crook:  “Fine.  Hurry up, and no one will get hurt.”

Mike:  (Removes money from register and turns towards Crook)  “Wait a minute.  What do you think you’re doing?”

Crook:  “What the hell does it look like I’m doing?  I’m holding up the place, fer Chrissake.”

Mike:  “I know that, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”


Mike:  “You just lit a cigarette!”

Crook:  “Yeah, so what?”

Mike:  “No smoking allowed.  It’s the new law.  I’m going to have to ask you to take that outside.”

Crook:  “Don’t you see that I have a gun in my hand?”

Mike:  “Sure.  I see that, but I also see that you have a cigarette in the other hand, and you’ll have to take that outside.”

Crook:  “You must be out of your mind.”

Mike:  “Sorry, but you can’t smoke in here.  It’s the law, man.”

Crook:  “Don’t hand me that crap.  This is a goddamned robbery.”

Mike:  “I know that, but I’m going to have to ask you again to take that cigarette outside, and be sure to move at least twenty-five feet away from the door.”

Crook:  “Jesus Christ!  OK, I’ll put the damned thing out.  Now hand over the money.”

Mike:  “I’m sorry, but I can’t offer you an ash tray.”

Crook:  “You must some kind of nutcase.  You want me to go outside to smoke, and then what?  I’m supposed to come back inside to finish this robbery?”

Mike:  “Suit yourself, but you may have to hurry.  I’m closing in seven minutes.”

Crook:  “Just my goddamned luck.  Of all the joints in the city to stick up, I hadda pick one run by a kook.  (Walks to the door and flicks the cigarette into the street)  OK, happy now?  Hand over the cash.”

Mike: (Hands Crook the money)

Crook:  “What’s this shit?  There’s only twenty-three bucks here.  Where’s the rest of it?”

Mike:  “There is no ‘rest of it’.  That’s it.  That’s all of it.”

Crook:  “Don’t bullshit me.  It’s Saturday night, and you’re telling me you only took in twenty-three dollars?”

Mike:  “Yep.  All my former customers are smokers.  I’m gonna have to sell the place and get a job.”

Crook:  “Man, that stinks.  Waddya gonna do?”

Mike:  “I’m thinking about running for the State Assembly.  A guy can make some real money there.”

Crook:  “Damn, I had no idea.  I haven’t been reading the papers.  Here, take the money back.  Do I have time for a beer?”

Mike:  “Sure, just as long as you don’t smoke.”

Crook:  “Tell me more about that State Assembly thing.”

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