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[orius]

Ok, so the autumn dwarf caravan has come time to trade.  After all the good finish getting hauled to the depot, I order the broker to duty.  The depot screen lists his current job:

Drink

*sigh*  What else is new?

So I check the booze stockpiles and breweries to keep an eye on the fool, he's nowhere to be found.  Check the unit list in case he's on his way to booze.  I find him clutching a barrel in a bedroom.  And here's where it starts to get weird.

I use "q" to check who sleeps there.  This is not the broker's room, it's been claimed by another couple.  I check the various relationship screens.  The broker is not related in any way to the couple.   The couple and the broker aren't even passing acquaintances.  And the wife who claimed the room is currently sleeping there.  I don't know if she went to sleep before or after the broker got there.

So apparently, the broker decided to go on a typical dorfish bender, but instead of getting plastered in a booze stockpile or brewery, he hauls the barrel off to a room claimed by two perfect strangers.  When he got there, one of them may have been sleeping, so he just climbs over the bed and starts to hit the barrel in the middle of the room as if this is nothing out of the ordinary (actually, these are dorfs, so maybe it's not).  Or if the room was empty when he got here, then the wife gets home, ignores the strange dorf in the middle of her room busy getting smashed, and plops down on the bed to sleep.

Sometimes, these little bearded freaks do the weirdest shit, no?

[Dorf3000]

Is he drinking from the barrel or is he drinking from the wife?

[Loud Whispers]

"A true dwarf does not care for pretty designs or "privacy". For a dwarf, a bedroom is a hole where he dumps his body for rest and his Useless crap for storage, to never touch again."~DF wiki

[Corai]

Honey! Im home from smashing kobold brains!

...

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

[Pbrandon1]

He could be humping the barrel and drinking at the same time. 

[khearn]

Maybe she brought the barrel to the room for a drink and then went to bed, laving the barrel there. Your broker, observing that a caravan had arrived, decided it was time for a drink (no doubt soon to be followed by a meal, a break, and a nap), and the nearest booze was the barrel in that room.

[ObeseHelmet]

Maybe she brought the barrel to the room for a drink and then went to bed, laving the barrel there. Your broker, observing that a caravan had arrived, decided it was time for a drink (no doubt soon to be followed by a meal, a break, and a nap), and the nearest booze was the barrel in that room.

Or maybe . . . just maybe . . . he brought the booze in to get the wife under the influence, and then, well, you know.

[SixOfSpades]

The couple and the broker aren't even passing acquaintances.

That's because they've never actually met. The broker saw her from afar, was instantly smitten, and had his heart hopelessly crushed when he learned she was already married. He considered arranging an accident for the husband, but as dorfs mate for life, well . . .
So he guards his bruised heart by never speaking to her/them. Who knows how much more pain he would suffer if he were to hear her voice? He keeps his distance, allowing himself only brief lapses to watch her sleep, fondle her hair, and maybe drown his sorrows in sewer brew--the only liquor he deserves anymore.
Allow the poor man what little solace he can find. He may be creepy, but he's harming no one--and besides, you slaughter newborn kittens and laugh maniacally as you engineer devices for the specific purpose of crushing/disemboweling/melting their unfortunate users. Who are you to judge this poor, unhappy soul?

[terko]

Who knows who knows, some of them are strange.

My Baroness in a recent, now fallen fort, had demanded the production of Traction Benches over Traction Benches, in the end I decided to put two of them next to her bed, that finally made her happy I think.

[orius]

"A true dwarf does not care for pretty designs or "privacy". For a dwarf, a bedroom is a hole where he dumps his body for rest and his Useless crap for storage, to never touch again."~DF wiki

True that, though it seems strange for a dorf to pick some random bedroom in which to get drunk.  But again these are dorfs, so maybe it's normal.  Anyway, it's in one of my backups and I checked, the broker went to the room first, and the other dorf just went to sleep with him there.

Maybe she brought the barrel to the room for a drink and then went to bed, laving the barrel there. Your broker, observing that a caravan had arrived, decided it was time for a drink (no doubt soon to be followed by a meal, a break, and a nap), and the nearest booze was the barrel in that room.

That could be it.  The barrel was already there and dorfs with their sixth sense for booze (one of the functions of the beard), he homed in on it.  It also might have ended up in the bedroom because only a few days earlier a civilian alert was raised due to a goblin ambush.  When they're told to head for the shelters, the dorfs have a tendancy drop crap all over the damn place, and it tends to stay there for a while.

The couple and the broker aren't even passing acquaintances.

That's because they've never actually met. The broker saw her from afar, was instantly smitten, and had his heart hopelessly crushed when he learned she was already married. He considered arranging an accident for the husband, but as dorfs mate for life, well . . .
So he guards his bruised heart by never speaking to her/them. Who knows how much more pain he would suffer if he were to hear her voice? He keeps his distance, allowing himself only brief lapses to watch her sleep, fondle her hair, and maybe drown his sorrows in sewer brew--the only liquor he deserves anymore.

Except the broker already has his own damn wife.  And they both came to the fort together.

And sewer brew?  No way, this dwarf is a Legendary appaiser, he does not drink such low-value rotgut (well, not when no one is watching anyway)!  It's the finest whip wine for him, stored in a masterwork schist pot!

[MarcAFK]

This Wine tastes like schist!
Shut your mouth and admire some gneiss Furniture.

[Morpha]

Is he drinking from the barrel or is he drinking from the wife?

This is a well-crafted dwarven wife. It is encrusted with responsibility, and encircled with bands of commitment. It is adorned with a suckling broker. She menaces with spikes of dwarven ale.