A Familiar Conversation

The following exchange occurred to me one morning while I was hiking the trail above my home with a headache. Please remember this is fiction . . . but then, all fiction is at least partly autobiographical, so there’s that . . .

“I feel like crap today.”

 “I’m not surprised.”

 “I’m thinking I shouldn’t drink whiskey anymore.”

 “I’ll have to agree with you there.”

 “In fact, I think I should stop all of it.”

“That’s probably a good idea. Although . . .”

“What?”

“Well, don’t you think that may be a bit extreme?”

“Yeah, maybe so. But I definitely shouldn’t drink whiskey anymore.”

“Agreed, so how about just beer from now on?”

“Yeah, just beer.”

“And maybe a small glass of wine – you know, on special occasions.”

“Well, sure; weddings, bar mitzvahs, and who can eat a good steak without a glass of cabernet?”

“Exactly, and what is Thanksgiving turkey without sauvignon blanc, or New Year’s Eve without a little bubbly?” 

“Right, or Italian food without Chianti, it’s just uncivilized. Alrighty then, just beer and wine from now on, that’s it.”

“Agreed. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with a tab of Xanax once in a while, just to take the edge off. I mean, we work hard and that’s just medicine.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Or alternatively, maybe just a pinch of weed.”

“Okay, but NOT both!”

“Absolutely not, it’s either one or the other, and the weed is only edibles. NO smoking!”

“Right, we’re not looking to get lung cancer here. Just a nibble of an edible a couple hours before bed; and we’re talking indica, not sativa. This is strictly medicinal. It’s decided then; just beer and wine and maybe a little Xanax or weed to relax in the evening, but that’s it.”

“Yup, that’s it, unless we absolutely HAVE to get to sleep, and then only a smidge of Ambien.”

“You’re talking just enough to doze off, right?”

“Right, not a microgram more.”

“I’m good with that.”

“Naturally, if that knee flares up again we both know ibuprofen is not going to get it done. We have to leave the door open for some provisional oxycodone.”

“Well sure, that’s what it’s for. You have to get in front of pain if you’re going to stop it.”

“Precisely. You know, when you really think about it, there’s nothing inherently wrong with a finger or two of good whiskey every once in a while. I mean, it’s not really about the whiskey, right?”

“Of course not, it’s about the amount. A little whiskey is actually good for the soul. Heck, I think that’s even in the Bible.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure you’re right. I’ll bet even Moses had a little snort once in a while. The desert gets pretty cold at night and there’s certainly nothing against it in the Ten Commandments, am I right?”

“You are as right as rain, my friend. As right as rain.”

“Okay then, it’s settled.  I think we’re good to go.”

“Hey, I’m glad we had this little chat. We should do it again.”

“Oh, we will . . . we will.”

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