All You Can Drink

A man walks into a bar, sits down on a bench and orders a cold one. He swigs down the beer, looks in his pocket, cringes and orders another. He gulps down that one, looks in his pocket again, cringes and orders yet another one. This goes on for at least an hour and a half. Finally the bartender, bursting with curiousity, says, “I know it’s none of my business buddy, but I have to ask. Why the whole “drink, look in pocket, cringe and order another one” routine?” “Well,” slurred the man, “There’s a picture of my wife in my pocket. When she starts to look good, then it’s time for me to go home.”