Three words: Teach an madra.
New York barman Greg Dingley, originally from Dublin, tells the story of a patron who left his phone behind the counter to charge up.
The man in question soon got so drunk that he got his phone, and he might be better off given the messages that were beeping through at a rate of knots.
“So here’s the story,” Greg writes.
“I’m a Dub bartending in NYC and last night some lad handed his phone in to get charged. He got drunk, left and forgot it. So myself and my female Mayo colleague found it at 4am with about 40 unread messages from an extremely unhappy wife on the home-screen.
“Me and the lads agreed no matter how bad we think we have it from our other halves, we can always think of what this lad was met with when he walked through his doors, oblivious to any of the messages she had sent. Poor b*****d.”
We couldn’t agree more.
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