(The morning after the night before OR you wouldn’t bang your head off a brick wall on purpose, would you?)
This is a story about a man just like you and me, more like me though. The young man who we shall call Richard, or Dick for short, or short Dick, but anyway . . .
Poor young Dick had a problem, a big problem. Well it wasn’t really his problem; it was everybody else’s problem. Dick, unbeknownst to his friends, as he had so few, couldn’t drink liquor well. Well he couldn’t drink enough, or at least he thought so.
Dick, or Richard as he was known in the daytime, as he didn’t drink during the day and so couldn’t be Dick, was a great guy. He would do anything for anyone. Even if he couldn’t he would try, or find someone, who could. What a guy!
Unfortunately this is the story of Richard and Dick, and what a Dick can do to your reputation. Dick was actually the downfall of Richard, but isn’t that the way it always is? It is always somebody else’s fault.
Richard’s girlfriend, the beautiful Susan Smythe, was the former homecoming queen at Millard Fillmore High School. Susan had made reservations for six at the Timpani Room. Actually she already had reservations about the evening, for fear of Dick showing up.
The evening was going quite well until Dick showed up. His fucking rude behavior and the fucking language he used was so fucking disgusting that good taste, and a decent upbringing, forbid me from detailing the actions of Dick’s four hour dinner performance. Let’s just say that the “seven dirty words you can’t say on television,” are not the best for dinner conversation either.
Needless to say that Susan was upset. However she did manage to remain dignified during dinner. Richard, who couldn’t remember a thing, woke up the next morning with a $2000 engagement ring in his left ear. Dick had done his job. Richard’s head hurt. As much from the ring placement, as the hangover Dick had gifted him.
After Susan had dumped Richard because of Dick; Dick took over. Richard was always Dick now, and Dick was never Richard, until one morning when Richard awoke. Poor Richard had slept for three days, but his head felt much better, there was no pain or pounding.
However, Dick couldn’t live pain free, so he began to drive his head into the floor, wall and finally the kitchen sink. Dick caught his reflection in the window and, seeing blood running down Richard’s face, passed out, hitting the edge of the counter, then the floor.
Although the papers said it was a suicide, we all knew different. Richard was just another victim of a drunk driver.