Vodka won't grow a foot. Whiskey won't heal a broken heart. Tequila plus driving will make you lose your driver's licence.
After I beat the shit out of that big mouthed pussy Dave Childs I was arrested. The judge gave me a lenient sentence "in light of my lack of a previous record and recent personal tragedies". That means my goddamn lawyer went to the prosecutor with my sob story and they convinced the judge to cut me some slack. The whole thing pissed me off. My attorney said I had to get up and tell the judge I was sorry for the beatdown of Dave Childs. I told that lawyer he could go fuck himself.
I didn't do it. I was not about to apologize to anyone. I had to go to jail for thirty days. I got some probation. I had to go to anger management class. Now there is a group of assholes like I have never seen before or since. Dave Childs wanted me to get the electric chair. That fat bastard never did have a sense of proportion. After the judge passed sentence Davey-boy was crying and moaning to the prosecutor. I gave him one of those looks that said "Shut up before I do it again" . I would have too, if my kids and attorney had not pushed my chair out of the courtroom before I could put in my two cents.
I refused to wear my foot.
During my probation I sat at home and drank. Here is another life lesson for you: drunks like an audience. It is no fun to sit at home and drink until you fall out of the recliner. It is a lot more satisfying to sit at the end of the bar at Murph's -- even if you rarely interact with the customers. People are more social than you think. I sit at the end of the bar and read, when a baseball game is not on the TV. Dave, the bartender at Murph's keeps my book under the bar for me. I try to be nice to him. he pours the nectar that gets me through the day.
I always watch the Colts from home though. You have to pay attention to football. Jerks at the bar never shut up enough during a football game. Even though most people are basically stupid, they are better company than my memories.
About a year after I lost my foot I got arrested for driving while drunk. After the court said I could not drive anymore I bought one of those old people scooters. I slipped a guy a couple of hundred bucks under the table plus parts to replace the electric motor with a bigger one, so I could get more speed. I can hit 17 miles per hour now. I still feel ridiculous riding that fucker, though. I am thinking of having a racing stripe painted on the side. I always get ambitious after a drink or two.
I drive my scooter down McCabe Road past the factories to Murph's Bar. I drive down the center of the street just to be an ass. I turn on my iPod and put the earbuds in. It pisses people off to no end. Kerry, put a tall orange flag on the back. The flag is the kind douchebag parents put on their kid's bikes. Those parents also buy those turd shaped helmets and make their pathetic little kids ride around with what looks like a big mushroom on their head. My neighbor kids ride their bikes up and down the sidewalk clanging a little bell on the handlebars. The tall orange flag waves above their little mushroom heads and training wheels. The little one actually wears elbow pads! They have been instructed to go inside when I open the garage door to drive out my scooter. I occasionally toss an empty bottle into their rose bed, just to freak out the Mom.
Kerry knows I drive up the street. She knows better than to tell me not to. Cement heads run n the family. She would better off to encourage me. I might then stop out of sheer meanness. I gave Josh my truck. I can't drive it. He tells me all of the time to quit driving up the street. He says it is embarrassing. Teenagers. Life is always about them.
I was on my way to Murph's when the scooter ran out of batteries right there on McCabe Road. I crawled off the bitch and hopped around to the back so I could push it. I finally had to get on my knees and crawl-push it to the side of the road. Not a single person stopped to help. A few honked at me. Why should they help? I am the jerk that holds them up on the way to work or home or their slutty girlfriend's every day, driving 17 mph down the fucking highway.
I got it to the side and kind of leaned against the back to rest. I had just closed my eyes. I was screwing up the courage to call Josh to come and get me when I hear a 'woop' and see the blue and red lights through my eyelids.