Woody: Can I pour you a beer, Mr. Peterson?
Norm: A little early, isn’t it, Woody?
Woody: For a beer?
Norm: No, for stupid questions.
Thus was born the cult of Norm Peterson, the most famous barfly to ever emerge from must-see TV. A living legend in the form of actor George Wendt, Norm from “Cheers” is a welcome sight at any watering hole. Now joining a long and proud history of literary lushes, his first book, “Drinking With George,” is out this month, chronicling his journey from illicit sips of Grandpa’s Budweiser to his discovery that one should always grab two beers on a trip to the fridge, in case you finish one off before getting back to the couch.
Wendt flew from his LA home to spend Monday on the town with The Post, where we learned that “Drinking With George” is more than a book title, it’s a lifestyle. Wendt took us to four of his favorite NYC taverns — we hope you’re thirsty.
5 p.m. HOUSE OF BREWS
363 W. 46th St., at Eighth Avenue; 212-245-0551
Wendt had hardly sipped his first pint of Chelsea Brewery’s Hop Angel IPA when it began.
“Norm! Hey, that’s Norm!”
With that, the actor was surrounded, this time by a pack of tourists from Maryland, grabbing a drink before their Broadway show. They were overjoyed to lift a glass with Wendt, as if they were suddenly part of that warm and jovial world where Sam, Cliff and Normy passed their evenings, every evening. There were many hands to shake and photos to pose for before they finally let Wendt get back to his true love — his beer.
“I can’t expect to go to a bar and not be recognized,” he said. “If I was going to feel weird about being called ‘Norm,’ then I shouldn’t be out. Instead of hiding, or acting like I don’t want to be bothered, it’s best to embrace the attention.”
Wendt became a fan of House of Brews last year while staring in “Hairspray” on Broadway and on this night he sampled a good number of local beers, moving from IPA to Coney Island Lager. All he’ll say is that he “never met a beer he didn’t like.”
Wendt takes his beer dark, preferably pitch black, and downed pint after pint of stouts with almost as much alcohol as wine. Trying to keep up with his impressive levels of consumption, we learned that — as his book jacket boasts — he truly is a “barstool professional.” Despite frequent interruptions from fans, many locals who might otherwise keep cool around celebs, Wendt managed to make 14 beers (a few merely quarter-glass samples) and a shot of Irish whiskey disappear — as well as the platter of calamari and other noshes that arrived compliments of the house.
Needless to say, the next day was a bleak and painful one for us. Wendt, 60, woke up feeling just fine. He’s been at this game for decades, and well before he landed the role of Norm, Wendt was already living his character’s life.
In “Drinking With George,” he tells how he missed orientation at Notre Dame because he was sleeping off a drunk. When finals rolled around, he was 1,000 miles away on a weeklong bender in Denver.
After school, Wendt “graduated” from Chicago’s Second City comedy troupe in 1975. Seven years later that led to a one-line walk-on in a new sit-com. All he had to do was walk into a bar and say, “Beer,” but something in the way he delivered the line inspired producers of “Cheers” to turn him into one of the bar’s chatty regulars.
Wendt remains great friends with Woody Harrelson, and recalls a time when they stayed at the same hotel as the US women’s synchronized swimming team. He charmed them into taking a midnight swim, but left before his younger co-star took a co-ed soak with them in a hot tub.
He once prepared for a driving test by clearing the empty beer cans from the back seat. He says most of his debauchery stems from his philosophy of “What if it’s good?” It’s a maxim that drives him to ever greater heights of consumption.
“Obviously, if you take a look at me, I’m not into self-denial,” he explained. “My theory on pleasures of the flesh — not so much sex, but food and drink and the senses in general — is why would I say ‘No thank you?’ Because what if it’s good? I would have missed out on something good.”
6:15 p.m. THE GINGER MAN
11 E. 36th St., at Fifth Avenue; 212-532-3740
At a recent celebrity event where Diane Sawyer was tending bar, Wendt asked for a “rainbow cone.” Sawyer was confused, so Wendt explained, “Just open up all the taps and move the beer mug from one to the next until it’s full.”
Ginger Man manager David Urbanos looked horrified when Wendt described the concept. Which made sense considering his bar has 70 craft beers on tap and 130 more rare and exotic bottles. The vast selection makes the Ginger Man a beer drinker’s paradise, the Wendt equivalent of 72 virgins.
Talking Wendt out of a rainbow cone, Urbanos steered him to cask-conditioned stouts: dark brews kept only slightly below room temperature. Wendt even tried an Italian stout made with hot chili peppers.
But getting down to the serious business of heavy drinking, Wendt demonstrated how to get comfortable at a crowded bar. The first step is to “establish a beachhead,” finding at least one empty seat to occupy, just as the Allies landed first at Normandy.
From there, Wendt began a supply line, ferrying pints of beer back from the beachhead to waiting friends in the crowd. It worked admirably. Before long, he had occupied other barstool beaches. It helped that other customers began to notice the big fella nudging them out of the way.
“That guy is an icon, a drinking icon,’ said Neil Gray, 34, after he had moved over to make room for Wendt. “Having Norm drink here is like a stamp of approval on this bar.”
7:45 p.m. SPUYTEN DUYVIL
359 Metropolitan Ave., Brooklyn
The hipsters and assorted locals who call Spuyten Duyvil home on Monday night were visibly surprised to see “Norm” walk into their tiny bar. One young woman asked if he “was the mailman from that bar show?”
“If I could think of a list of the top three people I’d want to come into my bar, he would definitely be on it,” said owner Joe Carroll, who presented Wendt with a tray of barbecue brought from Fette Sau, his restaurant next door. Those chunks of pork belly didn’t stand a chance.
Getting into our sixth and seventh drink of the night, conversation took a turn for the deep. At the end of his beer manifesto, Wendt imagines himself “. . . turning into some sort of boozy Colonel Kurtz, lost not in a heart of darkness but in a haze of great brews.”
Asked about the difference between beer lust and alcoholism, Wendt is silent. But he does offer this: “I puked as recently as this summer. My brother was pouring Allagash Tripel in half-liter glasses, and it was just delicious. We were going to watch a ballgame [and have fried chicken], but it was rained out. We just kept drinking and drinking.
“I remember crawling up the stairs and grabbing the banister. I got into bed and started getting dizzy and I grabbed a plastic wastebasket and just puked. I was instantly better — a real boot and rally — but man I felt like such a frat boy, 60 years old and throwing up in a wastebasket in my mother’s house.”
9 p.m. ROCKY SULLIVAN’S OF RED HOOK
34 Van Dyke St., Brooklyn
More than the beer, Wendt is drawn to Rocky Sullivan’s by the owner, Chris Byrne, a longtime friend. In fact, the actor may be the No. 1 fan of Byrne’s band, Seanchai & the Unity Squad, described as “the world’s only punk-funk Celtic hip-hop band.”
As Byrne played the Uilleann pipes, Wendt was joined by Graham Skipper, a member of the underground comedy troupe Fuct, and Jordann Baker, an aerialist with Lady Circus, surprisingly young pals for the star of a sitcom that filmed its last episode more than 15 years ago.
“What, you expected me to be friends with boring people?” he asks.
After Byrne’s set, Wendt sat and listened to his pal’s tavern-master tales. If he was weary from four hours of drinking, he didn’t show it, steadily dispatching pints of Guinness with his only break a shot of whiskey.
“I used to be sheepish about people offering to buy me a beer, and I would politely decline,” he said. “But their faces would just sink, and I realized they really wanted to buy Norm a beer. So now I accept the offer. My high school and college friends think I’m an absolute genius. I’m the only one of us who has figured out how to make a living by drinking beer.”
NORM!
The best and worst of being George Wendt
The Best
■ 1. Everybody you meet wants to buy you a beer, whether you want one or not.
■ 2. You pretty much always want one.
■ 3. Despite the tumult of Hollywood relationships, you stay happily married to the same woman for 30 years.
■ 4. Bono recalls drinking with you in a Dublin pub.
The Worst
■ 1. Everyone calls you “Norm!” even though your name is actually George.
■ 2. You always have to order under your breath, as you don’t want to be seen endorsing one brand over another.
■ 3. You spent years driving around in a VW Beetle with a Rolls-Royce grille, a practical joke from your father.
■ 4. Everybody you meet wants to buy you a beer, whether you want one or not.
jsilverman@nypost.com