I was at the gettin’ place, as I needed to get me some Dixie Beer. I stood gazing at all the beer choices, and I heard a voice, very close to my ear, “Uh-oh. Looks like someone has a drinking problem.” Barely a second passed before I responded, “Yeah. And the problem is I need more to drink!” I waited a beat or two before turning around, to see who had spoken. I wanted to give the body attached to the voice time to move the hell away from my person. When I did look, it was a rather disheveled dude, who appeared to be on a quest for some drink his own self. He started to tell me a story about prohibition, then trailed off and began shuffling down the aisle toward the hard stuff. He turned to look at me over his shoulder and said, “You should watch the History Channel once in a while. You might learn something.” Da fuh?
Now, I could have said many, many things in response, but I didn’t. I let him have his superior moment and that was that. (I assume it was a superior moment. Why else would he have thrown in that History Channel bit?) I don’t know that guy. In all likelihood, our paths will not cross again. I felt no need to get in the last word, either. As far as a “drinking problem” goes, I’ll know I’m in trouble when I up the ante or start hiding empty bottles. As it is now, I carry my empties out to the recycling bin in broad daylight. Couldn’t be happier about it, to boot. I don’t know a lot about life, but I do know I’ve yet to develop a drinking problem. I’m too much of a lightweight.
And I know this as well: that dude was way too close for comfort. And if anybody has a drinking problem…