I give you all a boy could give you
Take my tears and that's not nearly all
Oh...tainted love
I like to think of myself as a ‘good’ drunk. And that’s a good thing, because I’m good and drunk pretty much daily. In fact, on my drive home I am haunted by the clinkety sounds of the ice hitting the sides of my russian tea cups waiting for their daily shot of post-9-to-5 bourbon.
Clinkety-clinky-clink
But I’m a ‘good’ drunk only in the sense that I’m not violent, or overly talkative, or overly touchy. I don’t drunk dial my old girlfriends (nor the one guy I think I may have had a crush on in Kansas…eeg).
But I’m a ‘bad’ drunk in the sense that I’m vulnerable to my wife’s fits of cruel logic.
Me: (Spills a drop of liquor onto the formica countertop) OH!
Alex: Don’t vorry, I’ll vipe eet up vith Bounty.
Me: NOOOO! (Quickly bends over and licks up drop of bourbon from countertop. Spits out stray Oreo crumbs. Or were those sugar ants?)
Alex: Ewww! Dat’s deesgusting! Dis table eez not clean yet!
Me: (drunk, smiling) You know, girl, eet’s all right. I like to lick it.
Alex: Vell, vy don’t you leek sometheeng else? I have sometheeng you can leek, leetle man.
Me: (Still drunk, no longer smiling) Oh. Er. Well, you know, er…
Alex: Vut’s a matter? You say you like to leek, vell, leek.
Me: I know, but it’s skeery!
Alex: Awww? Leetle man skeered? Vell, here’s idea, maybe I take Meester Jack Daniels and speel a few drops down there? Just preetend I am keetchen table…
Me: I’m so confused…not fair…you’re using the liquor against me…you’re using the liquor against me…damn you woman!
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