Dave Johnson sends this tale of hard drinkin' Investigators--whether they could hold their liquor or not. Their names have been changed to protect the inebriated. As Dave tells it. . .
Larry and Durk were having an early Happy Hour. Cops love Happy Hour! You have a selection of free munchies and drinks are cheaper--sometimes free.
In walks a very successful local defense lawyer, we'll call Elton Ego, who proceeds to make the mistake of pulling up a chair to holster-sniff. Lawyer Elton ordered a drink and offered to buy Larry and Durk what ever they are having. Our heros, being stalwart, incorruptible public guardians, immediately ordered doubles of the good stuff.
Elton, settled in, apologizing for the sleazy job he had and explaining that you didn't take what he said in court personally, it was just his job. Larry and Durk commiserated until Elton excused his self, saying he had to call home. Elton, you see, was afflicted with the dreaded disease; Pusieus Whipitus. And being deathly afraid of his wife caused him to leave the table every 20 minutes to call her and assure that he was being a good boy.
It took Larry and Durk one of Doug Hendry's "New York Seconds" to get the hint and start ordering doubles--on Lawyer Elton's tab--every time he went to check-in with the boss. After the second round, the waitress got sugar plums over the prospect of a big tip and started bringing, without cue, ever stronger doses of Who Hit John.
Now Larry, being older (with a more experienced liver), was able to hang with the incredible rate of consumption. Durk, on the other hand, was a notoriously "cheap drunk" and was glassy-eyed by the third round. This circus went on for a couple hours, until Durk got up to use the Head and promptly walked into a pillar. He excused himself (to the pillar) and retired to the Men's lavatory where Larry found him sometime later, demonstrating how he could sleep, while standing up, at the urinal.
All the fun and games ended when Lawyer Elton got orders from headquarters to get his booty home ASAP. When he got the bill, for the alcoholic hose job, he almost swooned.
Larry did the sensible thing and took Durk to a very early breakfast to try to sober him up. This not working, Larry did the decent thing for his beloved junior partner, and took him home. Of course, Larry was decent but no fool. So, not wanting to encounter Mrs. Durk, he dumped his pal on the front lawn and peeled out before his car could be ID'd.
Thus were the days of old, when good whiskey over-ruled good sense, every darn time. Much like today.
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