So, after I heard the clanging of a few doors and some yelling, I began to get pissed off. I felt sober, really had no idea how much or when my last drink had been, but I was angry. And stuff was coming back to me. And I believe I had been PC'ed. By my girlfriend. Son of a bitch. You know, it always amazed me whenever I was PC'ed because I knew that when I was drinking , I was a gentle soul. Kind andfriendly. Really a good time to be around. What could I have possibly done to be relegated to this dirty cell like a common bag man? But I still wasn't sure, so I didn't want to jump to any hasty conclusions. Not that I've ever done that before. Perhaps there had merely been some misunderstanding, sure to be ironed out later. Apologies would be forthcoming.
After a while, someone brought me a tray of food, one of those brown sectionals about 3/4 of an inch thick that weigh about 2 pounds. Beans. White bread (of course). A couple of little plastic tubs of apple juice. I backed away from the door as he came in, and he set the tray down on the floor in front of me. We eyed each other for a second and I said, "Hey, thanks." He glared at me, and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Shit. I stared at the beans, then sporked them up, trying to remember when the last time I ate was. I thought to myself, I wonder what time it is now?
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