Or a slightly less humorous but feelgood story.   When I was a lot younger I did a few shifts a week in a pub near the university. On my first shift, a nice easy daytime one, the owner gave me the rundown on what to do and what to watch out for. He then proceeded to tell me that around 1pm an old gent would come in with his copy of the Scotsman and sit at a certain table. When he came to the bar he would order half an 80 and a nip of grouse. At this point I'm wondering what the hell he's on ab