What can YOU say in six sentences?
Oscar's was one of those skeevy bars where men with broken nose capillaries drink. Oscar was the first bar owner in the Twin Cities to ban smoking on the premises -- in 1982, it was -- and when his clientele threatened to boycott, he slashed the price of a draft beer to 25 cents and threatened right back to ban every last one of them. Business never dropped off, the cost of a beer went back up to a buck, and Oscar saved his lungs a couple decade's worth of aggro.
One Tuesday morning, just after opening, Oscar was icing down the long-necked Buds as a garbanzo bean-sized blood clot left its post in Oscar's left calf and traveled briskly to a lung.
The bartender coughed twice before sliding off to his reward, but not before a couple of regulars stepped into the place for their eye-openers.
The wake, held the following Friday night, brought drinkers and smokers from both Cities, and altogether they consumed Oscar's entire stock -- right down to the lurid blue-ish liqueurs no one in his right mind ever touched-- in tribute to the gods of wine, to Oscar and the patron saints of grumpy bachelors everywhere.