A Fish Story of a Different Sort

One night, a couple of decades ago, I'm sitting in a bar in Media, PA, a suburb or Philadelphia, drinking a bunch of cold ones with my friends Lisa, Bill, and Bobby. The door opens, and a guy walks in carrying a 4-5 foot long alligator.

The bartender says, "Yo, you can't have that reptile in here. You twos got to leave."

The guy says, "This animal is completely domesticated. He's as tame as a guide dog, for chrissakes. If I can prove to you he's safe, can he stay?"

Bartender shrugs and says, "What do you have in mind?"

The guy orders a pint of Guinness and places his alligator on the bar, directly across from us on the other side. As the bartender slides over his draft, the guy drops his pants and barks to his alligator, "Open!"

The alligator then opens his mouth wide. This guy proceeds to put his balls in the alligator's mouth, resting right on his tongue - an honest to goodness teabag. He then casually drinks his Guinness, like nothing's going on.

We're staring, absolutely speechless.

After about ten minutes, after he's finished his pint, he pulls his junk out of the gator's mouth, pulls up his pants, then orders the gator, "Close," to which the alligator promptly closes his jaws.

"See that? Perfectly trained, perfectly safe," says the guy. The bartender nods and says, "You're right - you both can stay."

With that, the guy looks over at us four and days, "I noticed you all watching. Any of you want to give it a try."

My drunken friend Bill starts to speak, but Bobby puts his hand up and interrupts him.

Bobby takes one more sip of beer and says, "I'm willing to give it a try, but I'm so drunk I might not be able to keep my mouth open that long."