The prodigal son

I was having a hard time getting drunk today. I would order a drink and Tim would say, “ You sure you want another drink, and I would open my wallet and count my money and say yep pretty sure. Then he would pour three quarters of a drink. This had been going on for three hours now, but I didn’t care. I understood Tim was torn, he was dating my ma.. He probably knew I was eating dinner at my ma’s tonight and he didn’t want me showing up drunk.

But I still got to pass the time.

How’s work going Paul

Pretty good Tim.

How’s business for you.

Could be better, I’m thinking of serving some pretzels or peanuts. I hope that will have people drinking a little more.

You want everybody to drink more but me.

I want people to drink because they’re thirsty, not because they’re trying to get fucked up everyday.

You’re full of shit Tim, this isn’t exactly a martini bar. And anyway I got a powerful thirst.

Oh yeah, why do you have such a powerful thirst.

I don’t know Tim. What do you want me to say.?

I’d just like to know why a young, successful guy, whose family loves him, wants to come and sit in the fucking dark and drink his life away.

Because I’m tired Tim, nothing fucking works out. I tried, but I don’t know what people want from me. I try and be there and that’s never enough. James dies and he’s a fucking saint. I live and nothing I do is enough. You ever here the story of the prodigal son.

Probably, I don’t know

Well allow me to refresh your memory. Okay, there’s two brothers right, and one goes off and he just goes off, wherever but he’s having fun. Riding mopeds and eating at all sorts of exotic taco bars were they call cheese queso, and have a wide variety of spiced meats right. Shit you know what I mean. He’s having a good time. But the other brother stays home right. And he just does what everybody expects him to do. He cuts peoples lawns when there high and he picks kids up from school. He’s a poor man’s Jerry Browne<!–[if !supportFootnotes]–>[1]<!–[endif]–>, You know just kind of does whatever’s necessary. Any way the other brother finally rides back over the border on his fucking moped and everybody goes nutty. His dad rushes to the bottom of the driveway to great him. His mom starts cooking a pot roast. All his old girlfriends shave their boxes whatever whatever. Anyway when the other brother, who stopped at kfc on the way home from work so his mom wouldn’t have to cook, finally pulls into the driveway it’s packed. He can barely get in the door and he asks somebody.

You know what’s going on? They say you’re brother just got back home were having a party. And he’s pissed because the chickens getting cold Tim the fucking chickens getting cold.

But Paul, James didn’t go to Mexico he died.

And that’s the worst fucking part, Tim. There’s really nobody to be angry at. I just feel shitty and it’s nobody’s fault. And that’s what I’m trying to tell you. It wasn’t the prodigal sons fault for coming home. and it wasn’t his family’s fault for being happy. But the other son still felt shitty.

I don’t really no if I followed all you were saying Paulie.

Well I’m getting a little shitty, so I probably didn’t say much.

Okay, well do you need a ride to your ma’s house. I could shut down early

No thanks I’ll just walk.