” I shall return.”  A man spoke to the barkeeper as he rose slowly from his stool.

  “Where you goin’, George? We haven’t run out of cheap beer, yet!”

“Aw, I gotta see a man about a horse.”  The drunken elderly man smiled and pointed in the direction of his next engagement.

“You know you can get pulled over for D.U.I. even on a horse!”  The short, thick man behind the bar chuckled and wiped George’s formerly frosty mug.

  George wafted a waive to the sparse group that spread throughout the room then bowed before exiting to the street where the sun scorched his retinas.  He stood in the intense glare squinting, forearm raised to protect his eyes.  A plethora of gin blossoms danced rosy across his cheeks and down the bridge of his nose where they flowed purplish to the flares of his nostrils which beamed brightly in the afternoon sun.

  Once his bloodshot eyes adjusted to the exchange of dark for light, George noted the scene of the streets and sidewalks both east and west.  Almost forgetting which direction he had intended to travel, he paused for a moment.  A spark jumped across the circuitry of his fog-filled brain and he remembered. He would go east. The sun had actually made his decision for him, for he could not bear to walk into the burning glare.  He turned east and began his awkward, permanently drunken swagger toward his destination.

  Some smiled and greeted George, while others stood in judgement of his lifestyle and mumbled such things as: “How could any man find so much time to drink?” and “Why would such a gentleman need to drink so much?” or simply “What a shame.” George did not care to notice the looks of disappointment as he passed. He would instead nod and smile politely to all he passed.

  “Ma’am.”  He said politely as he opened the door to the local salon for a woman older than himself.

  She smiled, judging him from behind the faked gesture, then trembled, “Thank You.”

  George bowed then continued his jovial stagger along the aging downtown sidewalk. He peeked into a window and waved to the children sitting in their booths eating ice cream with their parents. Then he nodded and said, “Good day.” to the tobacco shop owner who stood in front of his business smoking from his famed two-hundred year old pipe.