Jungle Juice Willy — Jersey City Heights resident, longshoreman, WWII combat veteran and patron of the Tunnel Bar — had a story about a visit from a priest. (God only knows now why the good Father was in the apartment of the Jungle Juice Willy family.) Willy had given his guest a drink. The priest commented at length on what fine Scotch it was and how he’d not had anything like it since the seminary back in Ireland. He then — pointedly — mentioned that he noticed a case under an end table.
“Father, I’ve got to tell you the truth. I robbed it offa the piers. I’d like to give you a bottle, but I just wouldn’t feel right giving stolen goods to a priest.”
“Why, sure and Begorrah, my son, I’ll take that as your confession. Say three Hail Marys and an Our Father.”
At that point, the priest got up from the sofa, walked over to the end table, hoisted up the entire case of liquor, and left.
