The Case of the Barred Bar

I was sick—love sick. It had been so long since my last date, I couldn’t even remember what she looked like. Oh wait, it was Marybeth, a brunette who was often mistaken for a dwarf from “Lord of the Rings.” Who knew a beard on a woman could be sexy? But that was ages ago, and now, with Valentine’s Day commercials reminding me how empty my life is without someone to spend ludicrous amounts of money on, I needed to find a new dwarf, or possibly even upgrade to a hobbit or an elf.

Out of pure desperation, I found myself knocking on my friend Daphne’s door to attend a party she called Love-apalooza, but which attendees dubbed No-Love-Fa-Losers. This annual event attracted a wide mix of perpetually single people ready to humiliate themselves during five-minute speed dates. Each time Daphne rang the bell, the men would move over one chair and have five minutes to get to know the lady seated on the opposite side of the table.

Each of my conversations that night involved a quick introduction and a minute of small talk, typically about her cats, at which point I would tell a bad joke, which was followed by awkward silence. If you’re wondering why the awkward silence, you should have heard my jokes.

For instance there was Loraine the yoga instructor: “What’s up with Buddha?” I said. “One statue he’s fat, the next he’s thin—he must have been on one hell of a yo-yo diet.”

Ding.

Janet, the herbal tea saleswoman: “Actually,” I told her, “I’ve been working in my herb garden all day, and now I’ve got too much thyme on my hands.”

Ding.

Psycho Suzie: “My last girlfriend left me,” I whispered, as if giving away top secret information, “which is surprising considering how thoroughly I duct-taped her to the chair.”

Ding.

After the last ding, I ran straight to Daphne standing by the bar.

“Daphne, my charms aren’t working! Please start serving these ladies drinks or else I’m going home without lipstick on my collar.”

“No booze this year,” she said, “unless you can solve this insurance riddle.”

“Spill it.”

“Well, is ‘host liquor’ liability still included in the ISO HO 2000? I have an underwriter who is telling me that if someone comes to my house and I serve him alcohol and he drives drunk and hurts someone, and that person sues me, I have no coverage under my HO because it involves an auto.”

“Daphne,” I said, “you’re protected by more things than just your house.”

What was Ace referring to? Click here for the answer.

Jonathan Hermann (hermannism@gmail.com) is an IA contributing editor.