Liquid Etchings
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Don't talk to drunks
And worse, don't listen to them. I sat in Crown & Anchor, trying to eat my fish & chip dinner when I overhear the conversation of some guy selling his Ventura County home talking to a mortgage dealer. I am smarter than both of them, and on most nights I would have just let them provide me with comedy, but tonight I was feeling argumentative. I'm that guy. I successfully convinced one to stay in his Ventura County home (while I sell mine) and I convinced the other that I was the greatest investor since Warren Buffet. I'm glad that neither of us had cards, because otherwise he would have been dogging me for investment advice, and I would have directed him to the nearest Turkish cell phone company.

When I was locked up, there was this guy in furlough serving a year named Eddie. He was so institutionalized that staff granted him special privileges, getting to go outside to help do yardwork and what not. That may not sound like a privilege to you, but when you've got cabin fever, yes yes yes it is. He told me in the hallways one day that they never check on you (as in, the probation officers coming to your house to see if you've still got alcohol there) on the weekends, and that he practically lived in the bars.

I'm beginning to sense that's the case. It's been a month, and while I have just begun with my probation as a free man, knowing what the criminal-to-cop ratio is in Ventura County (safest my ass!), I know they're not going to make a habitual visit. They'll probably come by some idle Friday night once or twice during my tenure, but I'm a "non-violent" first-offender, and they've got harder criminals to harass.

Now that Carroll has moved out, I no longer worry about the contents of the house; I know it's practically empty, and it'll provide a good story to any PO that decides to come by. But I will admit that while I won't label myself as a binge drinker, I will order drinks to take the edge of social situations. I'm not a social drinker because I'm not socializing; I'm drinking by myself in the corner while chumps offer each other investment advice.
Etched by Ron / 3/12/2005 10:17:00 AM |
There exists a version
of myself that chose wisely, that saved the day, that won, that got it right. I am his approximation. I've rounded down.
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It's hard for the crowd to give ear to the anguish of a soul slowly fading