"Pint Or Schooner?" Asks Bartender Who Doesn't Understand That It's 5:30PM On A Friday Before A Long Weekend So There's Only Really One Answer To That Question

"Pint Or Schooner?" Asks Bartender Who Doesn't Understand That It's 5:30PM On A Friday Before A Long Weekend So There's Only Really One Answer To That Question

ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact

A seemingly routine end-of-week beer in Betoota’s French Quarter was briefly derailed this afternoon when a bartender asked a question that had already been answered by the calendar, the clock, and the collective thirst of overworked slobs with nothing better to do.

At 5:30pm this afternoon, a man entered the Gelded Seahorse Hotel, approached the front bar, and prepared to order the drink that would formally separate the working week from whatever the next three days were going to become. Instead, he was met with the unnecessary enquiry.

“Pint or schooner?”

The question, witnesses say, hung in the air far longer than it should have.

Only later was the man identified as local office worker Nathan O’Connell, 36, who had arrived still wearing work clothes and carrying the dull fatigue of a week that had dragged on well past its usefulness. Friends say his productivity had ceased hours earlier, at roughly the same time the long weekend began to feel real.

Regulars at the Gelded Seahorse confirmed that by that time of day, in that venue, the decision has already been made.

"It's not something to think about,” said one patron from the front bar. "You just have two quick pints and feel the weight lift off."

Sources close to O’Connell say the pint was intended to serve as a ceremonial marker, signalling the transition from emails and deadlines to standing, drinking, and slowly losing track of time until suddenly it's 11:30pm and you try to find a missing briefcase that's in your other hand.

Despite the momentary disruption, O’Connell reportedly answered "pint" in a calm and measured tone, avoiding any unnecessary escalation.

Staff at the Gelded Seahorse later attributed the incident to a newer bartender still learning the rhythms of the French Quarter.

At the time of publication, O’Connell had secured his West End, taken up space near the bar and begun the quiet process of becoming unreachable for the remainder of the evening.

More to come.

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