6
“Mars, are you okay?” Kym asked as I stumbled into Mrs. Janowski’s dining room.
“I’m feelin’ a ’lil tipsy,” I slurred.
The ladies glanced up from their monitors as Kym slid out a chair for me to plop down in.
“A little tipsy? More like drunk as a skunk,” Sylvia said.
“You don’t have a job, so you go out drinking? That’s how you become homeless and drinking out of a paper bag,” Edna tittered.
“Nothing wrong with paper-bagging it,” Ida said.
“I found a job today. I’m on trial. No . . . probation.”
“So, you’re celebrating?” Sylvia asked.
“I’ll drink to that!” Ida lifted her coffee mug.
“I’m working at The Road Hog Bar. They said I have to drink my mistakes. I must’a made lots of mistakes.”
“Did Hank tell you that?” Ida asked. “They’re giving you a hard time. It’s hard to make mis
