…when the need for a drink is immediate there’s no foolin’ around, you beg if you have to, not a pretty sight but no one ever said being a lush was going to be easy… always waitin’ for a live one to cover the drinks, but lo and behold as I gape into the empty fridge seeing nothing neither edible nor potable and me dying for (from?) a pounder and no money save for a floor littered with 100s of pennies…all for a 12-pak of Bud cans at 6 ayem…Dude, what’s wrong with this picture?
…pennies only speaks volumes about one’s drinking habits, fiscal habits, past, future, on & on this adversarial list of self-abuses goes but finally I get ‘em rolled-up and off we go. Tacky.
Trying to make it seem as casual as I could and trying not to shake I say to the clerk with a chuckle and a nearly-toothless grin, “Could you please put it in a bag so people won’t think I’m a drunk?!” She laughs, tosses her head and throws the lottery ticket I’d bought with the 2 dollars leftover into the bag and says, “Well, we wouldn’t want them to think you’re a gambler either would we…” I haffta laff and do so, heartily even, o yea verily…but Dude, is it funny?
Matter of viewpoint I s’pose; you got your peccadilloes I got mine.
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