Drinkers Reservation Quota..!

With most parties running out of election strategies, I’m sure many will go in for the women vote promising prohibition. Drinkers have started feeling a little insecure! “We are forming a national political party!” said the town drunk, as he stood at my doorstep and handed me a leaflet, “and we would like you to attend our meeting!”
“Who told you I drink?” I asked nervously looking back to see if my wife was listening.
“Nobody!” said the town drunk giving me a wink, “But we tipplers recognize each other don’t we? Will you come?”
“Okay!” I whispered looking back again, “But only because I am a news writer!”
“It is time you drinkers came out of the closet,” said the town drunk, “and stop hiding behind your steel tumblers!”
It was noisy at the first meeting of the Drinkers Party. I realised they had already elected a chairman, “He can drink a whole bottle at one go!” whispered the town drunk, “So we elected him!”
“First item on the agenda!” said the chairman, and from his voice I knew he had already finished his quota. “Since 32 % of the men drink in the country, which makes us a sizeable minority, we have asked the government to give us Reservations!”
A cheer broke out in the room, as the men jumped on top of tables, swinging chairs around screaming “We want reservations! We want reservations!” and I realised they were all ready to leave the hall and agitate on the streets and roads.
“Smash buses!” cried a drinker as he waved his whisky glass.
“Burn cars!” said a beer drinker throwing his bottle onto the fan.
“Rob the liquor store!” cried the village drunk, as I told him to shut up.
Suddenly a government official entered with a letter to the chairman. The tipplers were quiet and then roared with delight as the chairman shouted, “The government has agreed to give us reservations!”
“Here fill up this form!” said my new friend as things quietened down, “Fill it and the chairman will sign it!”
“What is it?” I asked, staring curiously at the form.
“Reservation Certificate!” said the town drunk, “With this your son or daughter can get Drinkers Reservation Quota in any college, and you can get a government job instead of writing articles everyday!”
I gave the town drunk a high five; I was now a privileged citizen of the country!
“What are you doing?” asked the wife as I realized I had been dreaming in my sleep, “you just gave me a slap in your sleep! Hope you didn’t have one too many last night?’
“Nah!” I said sheepishly, “Just dreamt the government included me in a new reservation bill!”
“Hurrah!” cried the wife, “now you may finally get an editor’s job without having to compete with other writers..!”

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