Hey Wino, come and drink…

I’m a Wino. I drink cheap wine. I drink expensive wine…when it’s free. I drink wine every night. Alone. With people. At restaurants. Bars. I’ll spend 14 bucks for a glass of mediocre wine at a bar. I’m unhappy about 14 bucks. Better to go to Happy Hour and spend 7 bucks for the same god damned wine…

These days I only go to Happy Hour.

Gas is six bucks a gallon. I’m broke. I need a job. I’m too old to work. My boat leaks. I got a girlfriend I can’t afford. Life Sucks. Can shit get worse?

Next year I’ll be Seventy.

So far, I only drink in the evenings. After five. One minute after five. As I get older maybe I’ll begin drinking earlier. Like when I’m 80 I could maybe drink WINE for breakfast.

My Adopted Dad started drinking earlier as he aged. Good old Wayne. I loved the guy. I stopped by one day around noon. He was coughing a lot. Having trouble breathing. Kept a oxygen tank beside his chair. He gave me a twenty dollar bill and said run across the road to the liquor store and grab me a quart of brandy and a quart of gin. You can make us a cocktail. I didn’t ask him what kind of cocktail you make with Brandy and Gin. Rather, I said, “Maybe I need a little more money, Wayne.”

“Oh, no,” he said. “Twenty is plenty. You can keep the change.”

So I went over to the liquor store thinking he’s losing it and I’ll just go ahead and make up the difference. But once there I found a quart of Gin for eight dollars and a quart of brandy for seven dollars. The label said simply GIN, BRANDY like it was medicine they give you at the V.A. hospital.

At the counter the clerk said, “You must be Wayne’s son.”

The bill came to sixteen something.

I pocketed the change.

I don’t remember what kind of cocktail I made with Brandy and Gin…