I grabbed a shopping cart, and proceeded to fill it with a varied and sundry selection of wines, vodkas, liqueurs, tequila and a margarita bucket, a big bottle of Bailey's Irish Creme, and a bunch of mixers. I won't tell you what the cost of this extravaganza was, as I don't want anyone out there to have a coronary.
ANYway, I'm next in line at the checkout, and no one is behind me, when a gentleman about my age walks up with a single bottle of vodka in his hand. To be nice, and neighborly, I suggest to him that he go in front of me, as my purchase may take a while. He glances in my cart, thanks me, and steps up to pay for his purchase.
As the cashier rings up his bottle, he turns back to me, and being nice, and neighborly, asks,
"Havin' a Party?"
And, in true Bill Engvall style I reply,
"Nah... I'm an eclectic alcoholic."
And --- no word of this is a lie --- he looks me right in the eye, and with a perfectly straight face asks,