Old and Drunk

Sometimes I think my boss forgets about us when she’s out of town. If she were in town, we’d be home by now, I’m sure of it. But when she’s gone, she forgets that we sit here like Remo in a “wait”, staring ahead waiting for someone to tell us we can go.

Hurumph.

There was one more story from New Orleans I wanted to tell, because it was so classic and at the same time, a little scary.

We were walking around the Quarter, I believe it was daylight, and we walk by a nice couple…maybe 50’s, mid 50’s, and they’re nicely dressed. They look like they’re someone’s nice parents from the North Shore, very middle class. And there’s a woman with them, same age, same type – and she’s obviously loaded, lots of hand movements and standing kind of lopsided as drunk people will sometimes do – and we hear her say to her friends “IT’S HIS FAULT! HE’S THE ONE WHO ORDERED DOUBLE SHOTS!”

And we look over and there’s some poor gray-haired, thin, older man crouched in a doorway holding his head.

It was really weird.

You see tons of kids like that, ‘specially around Wrigley, but very rarely do you see a really grown man sick and drunk in a doorway looking like he was going to die.

Something really struck me about that.

Anyway, happy Friday everyone…should be a nice weekend. A little Lincoln Sq. Mayfest, maybe win some prizes, a boat tour that I have to give that I’m still learning (a lot) and tonight a quiet night of pizza and tour practice. I’m VERY interesting.