Here I am standing at the bar in Yesterday's. So where are y'all?
This is not the usual crowd. Very young, very green, quite drunk, generally speaking. I'll need at least another pint before I can tolerate them. I think I'll have one of those Bud Lights in the special St. Paddy's green aluminum bottles. I don't like light beer, but one must bow to the conventions of the day.
Anyway, I'm not going to be here all night, so if y'all want to hoist one with me, you'd best shake a leg. Quick's the word and sharp's the action. Time and tide wait for no man, and so forth.
See, I'm just taking a beer break in the middle of cleaning out my office. I'll be doing it all weekend and much of the week — 22 years of accumulation, or accretion, or whatever (I'm a notorious pack rat) makes a heap o' cleaning up. My task is like that of Hercules in the stables, or, if you're not into classical allusion, that of the noble wee machine, Wall-E.
Some silly bugger knocked his beer over so hard it splashed on my hair — and worse, onto the Blackberry. Drunk as Davy's sow, he must have been.
Somebody passed the word for Duncan, and he came to join me. I broke the news to him about my leaving the paper. He was disappointed to learn it. Duncan's a great guy. While he was here, a young guy who knows my daughter stopped by to say he's a fan. Of course, he doesn't take the paper — he reads my column at his parents' house on Sundays. Which is one of our problems.
I'm going to have a Yuengling before I go back to the office. Then I've got a lot of work to do. See ya.