Everything I Ever Needed to Know About Minimalism I Learned in a Bar

So two minimalists walk into a bar.

“What’ll it be?” says the barkeep.

“Well, we’re minimalists,” grinned the first fellow. “And we’d like a couple of minimalist beers.”

“You know, we get all kinds,” replied the bartender, “Horses, priests, rabbis, blondes — it’s like a running joke around here. But minimalists? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“We’re also bloggers,” volunteered the second guy. “Why don’t you read our blogs, then come back with those minimalist beers?”

The bartender shrugged, wrote down their web addresses, and disappeared into a back office. Ten minutes passed, then 20. Finally — after about an hour — a bleary eyed bartender re-emerged.

“Wow, that was really tedious,” the bartender blinked. “But I think I follow.” He reached below the bar and pulled out two tall pilsner glasses: one empty, one overflowing.

“What’s this?” whined the first minimalist. “There’s no beer in my glass!”

“No, of course not,” explained the barkeep. “I read your blog, and realized what was essential to a minimalist beer is the experience of coming to the bar. The beverage itself is unnecessary. Enjoy!”

“What about my beer?” asked the second minimalist. “It’s so full you got it all over the bar and my lap.”

“Yes, I read your blog, too, and came to understand I’ve been over-thinking things,”  answered the bartender. “The ultimate purpose of minimalism is learning to set aside goals and have time to do nothing, if we choose. So I just filled you right up: done!” With that, the barkeep grabbed his hat and turned for the exit. The two minimalists stared at each other in shock.

“What do we do now?” said one.

A monkey — who’d been sitting patiently a few stools down, waiting for the next joke — hopped onto the bar. Without a word, he poured half the contents of the overfilled glass into the empty one.

And minimalism prevailed.