July 12, 2012
By Tom Kelley
Timothy O’Reilly was genuinely fond of drinking beer. So much so, that after graduating from college with an MBA, he started up his own pub, complete with an in-house micro-brewery. At first, the luck of the Irish was with O’Reilly, and the pub was so successful that the profits from beer sales were more than sufficient to stay ahead of his own beer consumption “for quality control purposes.”
But alas, O’Reilly’s luck was not to hold. One night when he was working late, O’Reilly was the victim of a fatal accident at the brewery.
The unenviable task of giving the news to O’Reilly’s wife fell on the shoulders of the brewery’s assistant manager, James Flynn. Explaining that Timothy had been working in the rafters of the brewery that night, Flynn told Mrs. O’Reilly that her husband had fallen into one of the vats used in the final bottling process.
“Oh no!” Mrs. O’Reilly shrieked, “Did he die quickly?”
“Not exactly,” said Flynn. “He climbed out three times to use the bathroom before he succumbed to drowning.”
Editor’s note: For more than a year, we have been running the Attitude Adjustment column in this space. However, we thought our readers could use a little humor while out on the highway, so we are replacing Attitude Adjustment with Laugh Lane. We hope you enjoy the change.