I enjoy hanging out with Ferret despite his drinking ways. You would think a stodgy old recovering alcoholic like me would shy away from his fellow drunks, but as I said in a previous post: beggars can't be choosers. I certainly don't have many friends crawling out of the woodwork. I can count on Ferret liking me for just who I am, warts and all. I consider him a friend.
We walked down to the grand Chattahoochee early this morning scouting out campsites for a camping adventure I have planned. Ferret was giving me tips on where to pitch my tent. He lived on the river in a tent for half of a year, homeless.
"You don't want to pitch your tent too close to the water," Ferret told me as we walked through the woods behind the rail yard.
"Why?" I asked, amused.
"When they generate electricity up at the dam, the water will rise and I am always afraid it would overflow the banks. It stinks to high heaven as well."
We finally came upon a spot where Moore's creek intersects the Chattahoochee. I decided this would be my place to camp out tonight.
"It is gonna rain tonight," Ferret said, looking up at a gray and overcast sky. "I can feel it in my bones."
"I want it to rain," I said, sitting down on a log to light up a cigarillo. I handed one to Ferret as well, and he sat down beside me.
"What do you want for Christmas?" Ferret asked me as we sat there.
"To get drunk without consequences," I told him. "I am mourning not being able to drink. It is as if I have lost a long time friend."
Ferret laughed and slapped me on my knee.
"I am getting curtains," I finally said.
Ferret burst out laughing again.
"That sounds like something a woman would get!"
"I must've been a woman in a past life," I replied, poking a stick into the soggy ground as I smiled. It didn't embarrass me. I laughed along as well.
When I left Ferret, he was heading across the river to Subway for lunch. I was invited, but declined. I can eat homemade sandwiches for a week on what it costs to eat at Subway once. Money management was never Ferret's strong suite.