On the house

After work a few of us head out for a much needed ad hoc drink. As we approach the pub my heart sinks; there is a crowd of people milling around and they are not smoking. I really don't want to have to queue to get in or be jostled in an overcrowd bar.  At the door I spy that the pub is practically deserted, untouched drinks are scattered about, there is perhaps a dry ice machine working over time and a strong bonfirey smell.  It turns out that something in the back caught fire and the patrons fled - they should be ashamed to call themselves New Yorkers! The smoke and odour really weren't that bad and were slowly dissipating.  When I order a Guinness I was offered one of the pristine abandoned pints for free. If Nero can fiddle whilst Rome burnt then I am more than happy to drink whilst a New York bar slowly smoulders on a Friday night.