by franchising his version
of the local New York tavern...

to every suburban
shopping mall in America.

Tell me, Mr. Flanagan...
do you intend to provide
the smell of stale beer?

Or perhaps a surly bartender...
and three boring drunks
to each outlet?

I don't know.
You looking for another job?

Ah. A diamond in the rough.
The dreamer who can't
take the criticism.

Not from a guy who hides here 'cause
he can't hack it in the real world.

Okay, Flanagan.
Let's see how well you hack it
in the real world...

with an F" in this course.
Not a goddamn thing any one
of those professors says...

makes a difference
on the street.

If you know that,
you're ready to graduate.

Maybe I'm just too old
to be a student.

I've got to find something...
something to do.

You're in the perfect job.

There's no better way to make it
than behind three feet of mahogany.

Within one square mile
of this saloon...

lies the greatest concentration
of wealth in the world.

but how is a bartender...
gonna get his hands
on any of it?

A bartender is the aristocrat
of the working class.

He can make all kinds of moves
if he's smart.

There are investors out there.
There are angels.

There are suckers.
There are rich women with
nothing to do with their money.

You can stand in this bar
and you can be struck by lightning.

I've seen it happen.
- Shall I continue?
- Oh, please do.

Chantilly lace
and a pretty face