We had one hell of a storm last night. It thundered for what seemed like hours. “Music to my soul,” I thought as I stood at the refrigerator and drank milk straight from the carton. I have always enjoyed doing that ever since I was an adult. Mom would always scold me for doing it as a child. “You’ll make the milk go sour,” She would say as if milk was some golden substance to be cherished. “Hogwash,” I always thought. I can go buy another.
I thought of Ferret and how he fared through last night’s storm; sitting in his cheap Wal-Mart tent. It was a definite gulley washer. Not your usual storm, but a downright maelstrom. It was violent.
George came by during the middle of that storm. For him, the weather is just a mere inconvenience. We could have a major hurricane blow through and George would be out driving in it like a retard.
“Damn, God decided to piss on us tonight,” George said as he stepped through my door.
I couldn’t help but laugh; another Georgeism.
“What do you need man?” I asked.
“Hell, I decided to check on you,” George replied. “I know you are going through hell right now.”
George reeked of stale and foul smelling beer breath.
“For god’s sake,” I replied. “Sober up man. You are going to get yourself killed.”
“I ain’t never been struck by lightening,” George said with a confused look on his face.
“I meant the drinking and driving you dumbass,” I replied and we both burst out laughing. It was contagious.
George had brought my favorite beer Heineken; two six packs.
“These are for you and these are for me,” He said pointed to the case of Milwaukee’s Best Ice he was carrying as well after running back out to his car to get it.
We both sat and gotten completely sloshed as the storm raged outside. It was an enjoyable evening. I had a gulley washer going on outside and one in my gullet as well. It was late enough in the evening that I knew no relatives would come by so felt safe in getting drunk. The last thing I remembered was waking up at 3 AM. The storm had passed and George was gone. The first thing I did this morning was to crack open another beer; nothing like a Heineken first thing in the morning.
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