An awesome night is unfolding in Casa de Andrew. The gloomy weather is befitting my brooding mood tonight and that makes me funkaliciously happy. Just a moment ago, I broke out into this goofiest grin thinking of the visit from George I had this evening. Anybody in the room with me would have thought I was crazy. Hey… I am! What’s your excuse?
George was in rare form tonight and being his usual silly self. I was being my usual serious self and it became George’s mission in life to make me laugh and to prod me out of this house to go get into some trouble. Our strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personas made for an interesting conversation this evening.
George was trying to talk me into driving around the back dirt roads in the country and drink lots of beer with him. George hates to drink alone. I was always the exact opposite. I reveled in my solitude while drinking. I am sure our little back road journey of drunkenness would have entailed lots of stupid, silly talk and blaring gospel music from George’s car speakers.
“Come on and let’s go get fucked up!” George whined, pleading with me. “Me and you used to drink together all the time!”
“George, I have shitty luck,” I replied seriously. “If I were to go with you, I assure you we would get pulled over by the police. If there is a pile of dog shit in the yard, I will step in it without fail.”
“That’s why we be riding them back country roads,” George said. “They be no police on them.”
“Why don’t you go get Ferret?” I asked. “On second thought, don’t go get Ferret. You would be a bad influence on him and he might just get drunk.”
“I will only let you drink a six pack,” George replied, pleading some more. “Surely, yo ass ain’t gonna get drunk off a six pack of beer. You used to could drink an eighteen pack and still walk straight.”
I laughed remembering some of the many times me and George sat out in my backyard in the summertime drinking beer until our conversations had devolved into stupid silliness and not making a bit of sense. We would get so drunk about all we could do is just laugh and cackle at each other’s antics.
“Let me drive us around while you drink after we run your car back to your momma’s house,” I told him.
“You gonna drink as well?” George asked.
“No,” I replied adamantly, trying not to crack a smile.
“Well, I ain’t going unless yo ass is gonna get drunk too.”
“Fine,” I replied. "Don't go."
“I am headed to Pookie’s house and will drink over there,” George said trying to make me jealous.
“Fine,” I said again. “Just don’t drive home drunk.”
There was a long silence as George waited on me to change my mind.
“Oh, fucking come on,” George finally said. “You are a fucking stick in the mud these days. You used to could party with the best of them.”
It was oh so tempting to just escape into one night’s drunken bliss and silliness with George, but I abstained. I was proud of myself. I didn’t turn to the dark side of Dark Lord Palpatine aka George.
George finally gave up on trying to goad me into wanton drunken driving and left. I was kind of hoping he would just go buy a case of beer and come back over here and get drunk. It has been awhile since I have been around George when he is in fine drunken form; months to be exact. Oh well, maybe I won’t get any calls in the night from George wanting me to come bail him out of jail again. Hopefully, the allure of Pookie will keep him housebound for the night. I just chuckled out loud as I wrote that last sentence.