One lifestyle I have not tried is living in bars.
Like Bukowski. Or Jim Harrison, a "new" author I am currently digging. New to me. He died in 2016 at the age of 78.
My ass is comfortable on barstools, and I can shoot the shit with the best of them, so the habitat is comfortable to me.
I have consumed whiskey with some regularity, and excessively, for most of my life and it has done me a world of good. Although, since October - four straight months now - since I contracted The Black Death, I have consumed precious little alcohol, sometimes going DAYS without a drop. Remarkable.
I worry because my tolerance may drop off. Even worse, what if this is another fucking concession to old age? I do NOT need a life without alcohol.
I have consumed alcohol liberally, but always within the confines of a life lived within the established parameters of fucking rules. I had to get up in the morning, I had to go to work.
What I want is six months (or the rest of my life) with no obligations. Get up in the morning and head out to my favorite bar to drink all day. With a host of morons, psychopaths, and mental defectives. Make money shooting pool and playing cards. Lose money shooting pool and playing cards.
Run a tab and pay it off in painfully negotiated chunks.
Live on greasy bar-burgers and fries.
Sleep on random couches. Wear threadbare thrift store clothes, shower when I get a chance, shave every nine days like clockwork.
Get up in the morning, pop four xtra strength Tylenol, down two quick shots of vodka and two bottles of water, and head out to Murphy's bar to do it all again.
I could live a life like that. I could enjoy a life like that.
All I gotta do is get Carol's permission.
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