CHAPTER 8He spent that day re-evaluating his idea of what being drunk really was. Toward evening he came to the conclusion that he had been dreadfully misinformed and that a proper drunk, a respectable drunk, didn’t stop at just drunk. That first night after she left he downed three bottles of Ed’s juice only to throw it all back up again. As he heaved off the side of the back porch he was relieved to find another thought in his head other than her. ‘What a waste.’ he thought as he retched. ‘Now I gotta start drinkin’ all over again.’
During that first week, he seemed to have forgotten to eat and shower and change his clothes and go anywhere near the bedroom. Well, the latter was being avoided rather than forgotten. The other thing he had forgotten was that he inadvertently told Ed to pop
