What you drink and what they think.

So, a man walked into a bar. And here's what they thought.
  

Long Island Ice Tea

You are: Down-to-earth. Usually face-down.

You have: Been on the floor more times than your mop.

You ride: The taxi home (we hope).

You wear: Whatever was in fashion 10 years ago.

You know: The bartender better than anyone else at the bar.

You talk: Incoherently.

You need: Help getting the breathalyzer in the right hole.

You own: An unopened pack of condoms from 1984.

You think: Long islands are your cup of tea.

What people really think you are: the guy who got on the table and danced wildly to Summer of 69.

Margarita

You are: Comfortable with who you are, but you’re the only one.

You  have: a karaoke mic and aren't afraid to use it.

You ride: A car that's run into too many lampposts

You wear: Whatever it takes to look like a walking tropical garden.

You know: A few expletives in Spanish apparently. After a few drinks.

You talk: Too loud and too unnecessarily.

You need: To leave the party before the party leaves you.

You own: One too many Hawaiian shirts

You think: "Last call!" sounds just like "Please don’t leave! We love you and your charming wit!"

What people really think you are: The guy who takes 'pub crawls' literally.

Cosmopolitan

You are: Too colourful for colour TV

You ride: A yellow Lambretta

You wear: This season, dahling.

You know: The dialogues of 'Sex and the City' by heart.

You talk: Like the love child of Elton John and Liberace

You need: to put your pinky back with the rest of your fingers when you're drinking.

You own: All the back issues of Vogue (not India Vogue silly. US!)

You think: You are Fabulous honey!

What people really think you are: G.A.Y.

Beer

You are: The guy who can single-handedly wear-out a fresh urinal cake.

You ride: A bike that was handed down by your elder brother.

You wear: Whatever your mama sets out.

You know: How to order a beer in 37 languages, but can't pronounce 'Perrier.'

You talk: More 'dude' per minute than anyone else in the room.

You need: To try something other than the missionary position.

You own: Nothing.

You think: Beer is reason enough to wake up every afternoon.

What people really think you are: The dud in dude

Martini

You are: A wannabe. In denial.

You ride: An Aston Martin. Not.

You wear: Whatever's appropriate for a funeral.

You know: You aspire to a life of quiet dignity, but will settle for a life of quiet desperation.

You talk: In nods. And a nod means, 'another martini please.' And you've nodded nine times this evening.

You need: a new liver.

You own: A branded ball point pen. But no, it doesn't also function as a bug or a gun or a parachute.  

You think you are: not drunk, just 'gravity-challenged.'

What people really think you are: A well dressed drunk.

Scotch on the rocks

You are: Half scotch, but your ancestors aren't from Scotland.

You ride: A damn expensive set of wheels to go with that damn expensive watch to go with that damn expensive drink.

You wear: What most people's grandpa's wear.

You know: Anything sounds interesting with a bottle of scotch in your hand.

You talk: Not. But just sit there and look profoundly at your glass like you're supposed to. 

You need: To stop fighting your rescuers off when you fall into the vat at the scotch factory.

You own: A snorkelling kit for those scotch factory visits.

You think: You are someone who enjoys the finer things in life.

What people really think you are: A rich asshole.

Rum and coke

You have: a sense of deja-vu every time you walk into a bar.

You are: A breathalyser's best friend - it can recognize you a mile away.

You ride: Into trees and lamp posts and hydrants.

You wear: That leather jacket from your college days. Or you're probably still in college.

You know: How to handle your liquor - with both hands.

You talk: In (hic) coher (hic) ently.

You need: An AA meeting.

You own: A shag carpet because it’s easier to hang on to.

You think: You're as cool as Hemingway who used to drink rum too.

What people really think you are: The person Hemingway tried to make interesting with a drink.

Wine

 You are: Someone who'll drink vinegar if it comes in a long necked bottle with a French name.

You ride: A French car brand, n'est-ce pas?

You wear: A lot of white shirts.

You know: How to pronounce Merlot and Sauvignon Blanc.  But who cares.

You talk: Un peu Français.

You need: To stop talking like you have a cork up your ass.

You own:  Several wine bottles that would require a degree in French to decipher.

You think: Your DNA is shaped like a cock-screw (and you might be right).

What people really think you are:  A load of merde.