Many years ago, in a “friend’s” bar in Washington, D.C., (the one over the Post Pub,) a beautiful girl got all cuddly with me on the couch. I quickly realized she was reaching for my pockets. The while thing was a pickpocket routine. Now in mid-life I have learned a few lessons, among them: alcohol has no helpful function. It is a cunning, baffling, powerful poison. Also, nothing good ever happens away from home after 10pm.
One day at a time, brother.