"Go get us breakfast," Big S told me as he handed me a ten dollar bill this morning. This charitable side of Big S was so surprising. Big S normally only thinks about numero uno.
I walked the short walk down to Merl's diner and purchased four bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits. I pitched in a little of my own paltry stash of blog advertising cash to buy three coffees. I watched hungrily as the lady behind the counter prepared everything. Merl's was hopping this morning. The loud clinking of dishes being washed could be heard over the din of diners talking. The smell of frying bacon and brewing coffee permeated the air.
"Thanks," I said with a broad grin as the attendant handed me my bag of biscuits and my to-go tray of coffee. I hurried back up to the shopping center to enjoy this treat. I was starving.
Ferret had arrived when I walked back up. I handed him a biscuit and a coffee. His eyes were bloodshot from last nights drinking and he was shivering.
"Fuckin' cold!" he protested. "I will be glad when summer arrives."
"Then you will be complaining about the mosquitoes," I said jokingly.
Ferret didn't look too amused.
I came closest to drinking again this morning than I have in weeks. Ferret pulled out a flask of whiskey and poured some into his coffee. "Want some?" he asked as he reached out for my coffee with that flask in hand. I hesitated and almost went for it. I wanted to feel the warmth of that alcohol so badly. I wanted to numb out my day. Drinking is a vicious cycle for me, though. I will start and I can't quit. It is like some train wreck, chain reaction that I can't stop once I start. My biggest concern would be how disappointed my father would be in me when he came over to bring my medications tonight. He would know right away that I had been drinking.
I left the shopping center after eating my breakfast. I had the choice of going by Rosa's house or coming home to sleep some more. Sleep won out. I walked home and crashed in the bed -- my mind feverishly going over that encounter with Ferret and the alcohol this morning. I had come so close to opening that black door leading to disaster. I always was good at escaping by the hair of my neck. It is going to be another sober day -- a gratefully sober day.