I was telling some of the guys about this today, thought I'd share it with the forum...
Way back, (Ten Years) I used to work for this very soft spoken Irishman named Joe. (Uncle Joe, as he was better known, allthough he nowones Uncle...) So we arrive at the job and I'm unloading pipe and the rest of the mat's. Joe starts giving me crap about the last time I drove a rod for him it was too far away from the wall, subject to physical damage and this and that... And he starts up the hammer drill where he wants me to drive it in the garage slab.
I come back with my next load of material, and Joe says, in his Dublin drawl, "I think you're in luck, the drill went in really easy, and now you drive the rod right here!" He picks up the rod like he's going to plant it on the moon, line it up on the hole and lets go. And it's gone!
We're both staring at the hole where the rod disappeared. And, I say, "Well, I guess we're done with that..."
Joe's all taken back and tells me to go get a flash light, that maybe we dropped itno a crawl or something. (Although not very many buildings in that area have one, esspecially under a garage.)
I come back, and Joe's on all fours with the light and his eye at the hole, and says, "There's a Bar down there!"
We look for stairs, but can't find them for a while until we see some painted shut hinges in a panel wall.
We found a "Speak-easy"!
Owner had lived there for around ten years, had no idea it was there. It had a dirt floor, a old cabinet for a Bar, some tables and chairs, dart board, empty bottles, and a ground rod!
