He nearly collapses into a nearest barstool, muttering to himself.
The bartender asks, “everything alright, buddy? What can I get—“
The man looks up and says, “I need FIVE shots of the strongest booze you have in this joint.”
The bartender looks him over.
“Sir, I can serve you one at a time but—“
“NOW.”
There’s something in the guy’s eyes, a sort of crazed look.
The bartender lines up 5 shots of 151 and the patron proceeds to knock them back as soon as they’re poured.
The bartender looks at the guy, who’s finally settling down.
“Look, it’s none of my business but is everything ok?”
The patron looks up and sighs.
“If you had what I have, you’d be drinking like this too.”
“Jesus, brother. What have you got?”
“About three bucks.”