I'm not a beer drinker. Never acquired a taste for it. However, the establishment at which I decided to drown my sorrows did not serve anything but beers. So I drank beer. A dark ale, to be specific. And it was quite good.
No, I didn't drink alone. I met some friends from the English Department. We sat outside, drank, and laughed. For the hour or so I was there, I sort of forgot to be pissed or depressed. I drank, ate some pretzels, and pretended that I belonged in this gathering of full-time English professors. I almost believed it, too. The alcohol had a lot to do with that.
Yes, I am still angry and sad tonight. I still feel a little trapped by life. This isn't a mid-life crisis, either. I'm not thinking about buying a Harley or anything. Couldn't afford the son of a bitch. But my emotions are muted for the moment.
Saint Marty may be able to sleep tonight.
|Did somebody say beer?|