George came over this morning bearing a case of Milwaukee’s Best Ice. I gave in this morning and drank three. To be honest, that swill is the most awful tasting beer. George drinks it because it is cheap and has a very, very high alcohol content. A case costs $11.99 down at Fat Albert’s and is even cheaper at Wal-Mart. Twelve will get you shit faced. The alcohol content is 6 % per beer; twice that of normal beer.
“You know dad is trying to get power of attorney over me,” I told George. “He hired a very expensive lawyer.”
“That son of a bitch doesn’t play around, does he?” George said. “He just don’t give up.”
“He thinks I am a danger to myself and says the police keep calling about me,” I replied.
“Let me tell you something,” George said. “The police don’t call about you. They come and get you.”
“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “It is just bullshit.”
“What are you going to do?” George asked.
“I am going to relinquish control back over to dad and give in,” I replied. “I am tired of fighting. I guess I am going away.”
“Go away man. Leave,” George replied. “Pack your car up and drive off. They can’t lock you up if they can’t find you.”
“I have nowhere to go,” I replied sadly. “It is best that I just quit fighting.”
“I never thought I would tell you this, but you should just go back to being homeless,” George said. “At least then, you will be free.”
“They would just find me and come and get me,” I replied.
Maggie ran up and down my back yard so joyous to be out of the house. It made me smile to watch her; one of life’s small little joys.
“George, do I act crazy?” I asked.
“I think you have just been labeled as crazy and now it has stuck,” George replied.
“Well, I do have problems with the ghosting and shit, but I am not running out in the streets babbling incoherently,” I said.
“I wish I knew what to tell you,” George replied. “I would do what I could to help you.”
“I know you would man,” I said. “You are a good friend and I would do the same for you.”
George went and threw his empty beer can away and I managed to get Maggie back inside. It was no small feat as she was having so much fun.
“Let’s just get rip roarin’ drunk,” George said. “You never drink these days.”
“I would just be adding fuel to the fire,” I replied. “It would just be another reason that I am a danger to myself. With my luck, every family member I know would come right over to find out.”
George told me goodbye and drove off. He had to get busy making some money. He just drank up a good day’s work. I worry about him drinking and driving like that. He is far more a danger to himself and others than I. Eventually, it will catch up with him.
I was thinking this morning as we sat and drank how George has a choice with his freedom and gambles with it constantly. One accident; one fender bender; and he would lose his freedom. I have no choice. Someone is purposely trying to take mine away.
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