The scene:
Ben Moore's
The characters: me, the
Reverend and
The Big Moosie.
I looked over the rim of my
Bud bottle at
Moosie, who was
stewing in the gravy of his ruined relationship. Smiled a bit since I'd seen
The Plan -
executed it in fact. Talked about how well he was handling the whole mess, compared to well -
me.
See, I always thought that
Moosie would really
flame out hard. He's got his
known security exploits, and it shows on his face. So this,
his first ride in the pilot's seat of a relationship for years, well. I thought the crash would break him.
Imagined him sobbing on her lawn,
Pictured him losing his job.
But no,
nothing - a few public tears quickly wiped away and some moapy thousand-yard stares. That's it.
So we talked and drank until the bar got empty and the
rim got blurry. Finally, we nail
Moosie: when was he gonna let it go a bit? A
high-volume argument in the street after last call,
passing out in the large booth at the back of the bar, dragging a friend down to a crappy little dock to watch your
tears drip into the water. We all like some feedback when we're pitiful, and in the long run no one remembers. Really,
Moose.
It's well past time for you to totally lose it.