One Red Baron

One Red Baron (PMviii)

Red had signalled him to

sneak out for a smoke so he

followed him out through te

back dock.

He didn't want the bitch to see

him going out again or she

would definitely get bent on

an estrogen-induced power trip

and anti-smoking tirade.

As soon as Red got out the

door he pulled a beer out of

his coat.

Sleeman's honey lager, It

looked real good but since he

didn't drink anymore he declined

the silent offer when Red tipped the

bottle in his direction.

By this time he had his cigarette

lit.

Red had downed the first bbr

and reached back in his coat for

another one.

His sip of beer would empty half

the bottle.

He had finished three by the time

they had done the smoke break.

He tossed the empties in the

dumpster on his way back in

the pffice, the smash of breaking

glass reminded him him of his

teenage year, shooting bbs at

empty beer and liquor bottles.

Red became more expressive and

talkative as the morning wore

on,

they went on two more smoke

breaks so he had drunk nine

bottles of beer by the time they were

ready to go out on the road.

He saw Red get in his Mustang

and peel out of the parking

lot,

plastic adornment testicles

hung from the rear bumper.

How the fuck could he walk

five miles, delivering mail after

drinking that much beer?

The logistics were staggering to me

then I considered stopping to take

a piss and I never knew how he

managed.

His name was Red, he was good

friend.

MCC