This rather attractive woman walks into a bar...

IT seems that one fine day, a very comely woman walks into a typical industrial-class workingman's bar.

Several heads were turned as the sunlight permeated the smoky darkness.

She confidently saunters up to the bar and hails the barman.

"Yes, ma'am. What can I get you today?"

"I'd like 12 scotches, neat."

Thinking that's a bit of an odd order, he pours her a stiff one and sets it on the bar.

"Slam!", she downs that drink like a free beer at a Geological Society of America convention.

"Keep'em coming..." she purrs.

One after another. 10, 9, 8 and all that. She drains those 11 scotches without so much as a hiccup. She pays up, thanks the barkeep, slumps like a poleaxed mule and passes out colder'n a mackerel.

The barkeep looks over the bar at her, slumped between the peanut hulls and cigarette butts on the floor. Some of the regulars saunter over and inspect the scene as well.

"Well", says Shady (a regular regular), "What'd we do with her now?"

"Y'know...", offers Earl (another regular), "She's so out of it, we could all have a wee bit of the ol' in/out/in/out, and she'd never be the wiser...just sayin'"

A chorus of "Hell yeah's" and "Firsties!" rebound around the bar.

After the deeds were done, she was cleaned up, her purse inspected, her address ascertained, a cab called and she was sent on her way home.

The very next day, she infiltrates the bar again and...

Confidently saunters up to the bar and hails the barman.

"Yes, ma'am. What can I get you today?"

"I'd like 12 scotches, neat."

"Coming up."

A dozen drinks later, the exact same scenario plays out. The Lagavulin-slam, wipeout, rumpy-pumpy, deshevilization, cab called, etc.

The very next day, she infiltrates the bar again and...

"Good day, Ma'am." exclaims the barkeep. "Your usual?"

"No, not today. Today I'd like 12 vodkas. Those damn scotches make my pussy hurt..."