A depressed man walks into a bar and sits down, his face buried in his hands. “Give me six double brandies,” he tells the bartender in a low voice.
The bartender, pouring the drinks, raises an eyebrow. “That’s quite a start. Rough day?”
“You could say that,” the man sighs. “I just found out my dad is gay.”
The bartender pauses, nods sympathetically, and watches as the man downs his drinks one after another.
The next day, the same man walks in again — looking even worse. “Six double brandies,” he mutters.
“Back so soon?” the bartender asks. “What happened this time?”
The man takes a deep breath and groans, “I just found out my son is gay too.”
The bartender blinks. “That’s… rough, man. I’m sorry to hear that.”
On the third day, the man stumbles into the bar again. “Six double brandies,” he says, slamming a crumpled note on the counter.
The bartender pours the drinks and finally asks, “For heaven’s sake, does anyone in your family even like women?”
The man sighs, takes a long sip, and says, “Yeah… my wife.”
