I'm an Alcoholic Now

Always have been

Wonderlane

There’s a cute young woman cashier who flirts with me at the supermarket and I have no idea why. My clothes are at least seven years old, there’s usually cat fur on me, and I keep on buying suitcases of beer. Maybe it’s just because she’s getting used to me. I do buy beer everyday.

We’re also all freezing and covered in snow. There hasn’t been a winter this harsh since I was a child Upstate, and it is demoralizing. I’m not young anymore, I get cold now, and maybe this woman is demoralized, too. As one of my old restaurant mangers said when he asked me to cover a shift and I told him I was extremely hungover, “All we need is a warm body.” Maybe this girl feels the same way.

Still, it’s risky. She works at the closest supermarket, and that matters. There’s over a foot of snow again and while there are other supermarkets and bodegas out there, it’s a nightmare even getting to this one. If things go sideways, it’d be difficult to ever go back, and I’m not as bold as I was when I was younger. And again, I have no idea why she’s flirting. She’s at least 20 years younger, she could do better, and I’ve been kind of a mess for my entire life.

She’s super cute. Maybe her dad was a drunk, too, or maybe she just wants an older guy. As a man, I’m clueless when it comes to this. Aside from the drinking, I’ve taken care of myself. I can still throw a four-seam fastball 90 mph and haven’t let myself go, but she deserves more than a guy who’s been drunk for the last thirty years.

Crap. I might have a crush on her.