A Jamaican walks into a bar in Miami, orders three Red Stripe beers and sits in the back of the room, drinking a sip out of each one in turn. When he finishes them, he comes back to the bar and orders three more.
The bartender approaches and tells him, 'You know, a beer goes flat after you draw it; it would taste better if you bought one at a time.'
The Jamaican replies, 'Well, you see, mi have two bredda. One inna Toronto , the other dey a London , and mi deya a Miami . When we all left home, we promised fi drink this way to remember the days when we drank in Jamaica. So mi drink one for each ah meh bredda and one for meh self.'
The bartender admits that this is a nice Jamaican custom, and leaves it there.
The Jamaican becomes a regular in the bar, and always drinks the same way: He orders three beers and drinks them in turn.
One day, he comes in and orders two beers. All the other regulars take notice and fall silent. When he comes back to the bar for the second round, the bartender says, 'I don't want to intrude on your grief, but I wanted to offer my condolences on your great loss.'
The Jamaican looks confused for a moment, then a light dawns in his eye and he laughs. 'Oh, no no, everyone's fine,' He explains,' It's just that I became a Christian, and I personally had to stop drinking.'
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