I went to lunch today at one of my usual spots, and sat down at the bar across the corner from a guy that arrived just before me. He was an older gentleman of indeterminant age, and I watched as Zach poured his drink. It was a pint glass, filled half with ice, and then filled three quarters full or so with rail vodka.
And then I watched the old man drink it in about two to three minutes.
I’m going to repeat that, because it bears repeating. This guy drank about 10oz of vodka. In two to three minutes. Apparently, he’s a regular. Comes in two to three times a day. Always kinda shambles out, looking sober as a judge. Despite having had what amounts to seven shots.
And then I figured: My God. He can’t be alone in this town. Whew. And that’s when I picked up my jaw.