A guy walks into a bar

... and orders a beer.

This is what he gets:

Irish for "fightin' words."

And this:

"The tall guy looks like a bad tipper. Find a way to make him pay."

The upshot is that the nearest bar to the paper has a really nice beer garden but uniformly awful service. I wonder--assuming a guy could jump through all the right [flaming] government hoops--what it would take to open a bar here. Because I'm pretty sure I could hire a staff of journalists and have the best drinks in town.