Rock Bottom

No job. No car. No money. No family. This must be what they call "rock bottom," I mused.

"Take a little drink," he said. "It'll soothe your nerves. Then you'll be able to think better."

"A drink?" I scoffed. "That's what got me into this mess in the first place. No more 'little drinks!' It's time for a change! "

"Look, I know how you feel," he commiserated. "Yeah, I'd blame it on the booze, too. And you're probably right. You should quit drinking. First thing tomorrow!"

"'First thing tomorrow?'" I mimicked acidly. "I'm not falling for that again. I'm quitting now!"

"Right," he said. "Right you are! Good thinking! You're going to need a good night's sleep. Just pop my cork and take a swig. A little one! When have I ever steered you wrong?"

"When have you ever ...," I sputtered incredulously. "Just always, that's when!"

I cocked my arm to smash him against the pavement.

"Ok ok ok!" he interjected quickly. "Wait wait wait! I'm on your side!"

I hesitated. "Really?" said I skeptically. "How do you figure?"

"I've always been your friend," he lied. "I've never wanted to do anything but help! You craved liquor. I obliged you. You might say I loved not wisely, but too well. But you can't blame me for that."

Well, he did have a point.

"But I'm never drinking another drop of alcohol," I insisted, trying to regain the initiative. "I'm quitting, and I'm going to get another job, and I'm going to work my way back, and I'm going to regain all the respect I've lost over the years! I'm going to change my life completely. "

"Very wise," he agreed. "Very wise. But you know what? That's going to be a very difficult and perilous undertaking."

"Don't you dare try to talk me out of it!" I warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he said. "The point I want to make is, you're going to need an experienced adviser."

"Good point," I admitted. "Who do you think ...? Oh, no! Not you! You got me into this mess! You pretty much are this mess! "

"Why not?" he wheedled. "This is new territory for you, but I have years of experience. I know everything there is to know about alcoholism. Who knows more than a bottle of whiskey?"

"Cheap whiskey," I added.

"Now, that was unkind," he chided. "But think about it. My job is to provide the experience. You're the policy guy. You call all the shots. Um, so to speak. I may be a bottle of hooch, but I'm experienced. I will support whatever policy you choose to follow. See?"

I did. I set the policy, he carries it out.

"Ok," I agreed. "You're on. Now, here's the policy: Absolutely no drinking. Change has come! Do you have any advice?"

He pondered for a moment. "Very good," he said, shaking his neck slowly. "Very good indeed. I think your very first step should be to have a little drink."

So what's with all the old Clintonite retreads, huh?