There's no one there but a sleepy bartender wiping down the counter, but nothing seems out of the ordinary until he orders.
"You, uh, got any pretzels?"
The bartender pulls the largest bowl the New Yorker has ever seen from under the bar. It's larger than a punch bowl and filled to the brim with pretzels.
"Jeez, are you kidding me? I'm just one person. You're giving me all this?"
The bartender showed no emotion. He just shrugged.
"Everything's bigger in Texas."
The New Yorker knew he'd barely make a dent, but thought he may as well get started. All this was gonna make him pretty damn thirsty so he ordered a beer as well.
"I'll take whatever you have on tap," says the New Yorker.
The bartender takes a massive glass, easily four or five times normal, takes a good long while to fill it up, then slides it across to the patron.
"What's all this? This thing is huge! How am I supposed to drink all that?!"
The bartender shrugs, "Everything's bigger in Texas." He continues cleaning the bar.
So the New Yorker works his way through the pretzels and beer. Back and forth. Watching a game on TV and before he knew it he had finished everything in front of him and looked to the bartender.
"Where'sh your toilet?" he slurred.
The bartender replied, "Straight down this hallway here. Last door on your right."
The New Yorker stumbled off his seat and, hugging the wall, made his way to the end of the hallway and went through the last door on the left.
He falls straight into the hotel pool and when he makes it back to the surface he screams,
"DON'T FLUSH! DON'T FLUSH!!"
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