George has had his job at Wal-Mart distribution for over a year now. Nobody could be more surprised than I. I always worried he would get too drunk to make it in to work and get fired. He’s been late a few times, but his supervisor lets him get away with it being kind and understanding.
George arrived in the dark this morning after getting off of work early with a 12 twelve pack of cheap beer and a bag from his mother to me. He knew I would be up. He had called on his cellphone to make sure.
“It’s just some leftover fresh vegetables and ranch dip from Christmas,” George said. “I won’t eat that rabbit food and momma says she can’t chew them good with her dentures.”
“I sure wish I had some of your mother’s sweet tea,” I replied wistfully.
“I’ll go get you some after I drink my beer,” George told me with a grin. “Momma would be thrilled to know you like her tea so much.”
“No, no, no,” I replied, worried about George driving drunk too much. “She does make the best tea, though.”
George sat in my Lazy Boy and made himself comfortable. I put on a DVD of season 6 of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. I navigated the DVD with the remote until we got to the point we left off before Christmas. It was good to settle back into our routines.
“Workin’ for da man fuckin’ sucks,” George said grimly. “I miss my taxi service.”
“You’re lucky,” George furthered. “You don’t have to work. You have Daddy Warbucks to take care of you.”
The air of jealousy in George’s voice was unmistakable.
“I’d like to work,” I replied. “I’d like to just be able to buy a Diet Coke without it being monkeys in a barrel.”
George laughed at my monkeys in a barrel remark.
“I’ve told you many times to just leave,” he said. “Take Maggie and move to Nashville and live in the Mission until you can get on your feet. You have a car that can make it and you’re smart and cunning when you want to be. You’re not as helpless as you put on.”
Yes, I’ve thought about doing that many times. Mainly when I get mad at dad. He would spare no expense to find me though. He would come and get me, and force me home.
George and I both got quiet as we sat and watched one of the better episodes of Deep Space Nine – an epic starship battle. It was so nice to have company even if my company was getting three sheets to the wind. The two hour episode was over in a flash and George had gotten his last beer out of the fridge.
“One for the road,” he said, slurring his words.
“I wish you’d let me drive you home,” I replied, worried.
George wouldn’t have any of that and I watched as he drove off. Just another morning in the life of Andrew with unconventional George. I do love that man deeply as a friend, though.