A lot of old-timey saloons would just put out a lunch buffet and as long as you bought one drink you could take what you like. Pretty good food by some accounts.
I talked to my Dad and he claimed this was still a thing in a few places as late as the early-80s, there were places with "happy hour" where they would put out a small buffet like once a week. He said in college he'd go to them and buy one beer and fill up.
Narrator: And here we see the lib poster, he neither hears or sees himself. In this hostile world of posts, he relies on the pack to survive, their shibboleths are designed to cause a herding behavior giving them safety in numbers, but today he has wondered far from the pack. Def and blind, he calls to pack, but his calls only draw the attention of the lingering critical minds slumbering within the threads...
Narrator: The lib confronts the shadows with confidence, unaware that he is without the safety of his pack to shower his unintelligible barks with up votes and hallow platitudes. Lacking in self awareness he continues to lash out at those around him, unaware of the hole he is digging for himself. Once deep inside this hole he will blame anyone but himself.
Narrator: And yet it was he who was not capable of discourse. Such is the nature of the lib.
