A guy is belly up to the bar at his local pub, really tying one on, when a shot goes down a little rough and he vomits a bit down the front of his shirt.
“God dammit,” he mumbles. Looking down at his ruined shirt, then up at the bartender, he continues, “Now I’m fucked. My wife is going to kill me. I’m not even supposed to be out tonight!”
“Hey, don’t sweat it, buddy,” the bartender replies, smiling and slipping a $20 bill in the guy’s shirt pocket. “Just tell your wife that you were walking past the bar on you way home, some old drunk stumbled out and vomited on you, and then felt so bad he gave you $20 to pay for the dry cleaning bill.”
The guy agrees that this is a genius idea, and orders another round with renewed vigor and lifted spirits (so to speak).
Hours later, after fumbling at the door with his keys, the guy finally finds his way into his house, where his wife is waiting at the foot of the stairs in her bathrobe. Immediately, she starts giving him the business, cursing him up and down, telling him what a lousy, no-good, two-bit sonofabitch he is, when she notices the vomit stain.
“And just look at that!” she yells, red-faced. “For a hopeless drunk, you can’t hold your booze for shit! Another shirt ruined, and all because you were out drinking!”
“Honey, HONEY!” He finally interrupts, holding his hands up in defense. Collecting himself, he explains that he wasn’t out drinking at all, and tells her all about the drunk vomiter and his generous apology, and the $20 bill.
Eyes narrowed, she notices two $20 bills in his shirt pocket.
“Well if that guy gave you $20 to pay for the cleaning, then how come there are two $20 bills in your shirt?!”
“Well, honey, you see, the guy, he ahhhh…” stammers the man, “…he crapped in my pants, too.”