Because none of us were.Six? Really? Six beers? No ... wait ... seven. Yeah ... seven ... or was it eight?“Anna? How many trips to the pisser?”“...wo.”Eight beers ... each.Sure it’s 3.2 but ... eight, and the stool is feeling comfy.“Gimmie your keys,” said the bartender.I didn’t even think about it ... I passed ‘em over. He hung ‘em on a board behind the bar.He got on the phone to the desk. “Yeah ... four of them ... college girls, looks like.” He hung up.“You’re bunking here tonight,” he. I rolled the pants legs up as far as I could and walked out of the washroom both hands holding the jeans up. As I walked into the dining room Mr and Mrs Cook about died laughing at my predicament. “Rob having alittle trouble holding your britches up are ya” Mr Cook said with a huge grin on his face“Oh Jeb quit teasing the boy” Mrs Cook said as she went into another room and came out with a long piece of yarn. “Here Robert use this as a belt, it might help you alittle bit”“Thank you ma’am” I. More

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