"Ford," said Arthur, "would you please tell me what the hell is going on?"
"Drink up," said Ford, "you've got three pints to get through."
"Three pints?" said Arthur. "At lunchtime?"
The man next to Ford grinned and nodded happily. Ford ignored him. "Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so."
"Very deep," said Arthur, "you should send that in to the Reader's Digest. They've got a page for people like you."
"Drink up."
"Why three pints all of a sudden?"
"Muscle relaxant, you'll need it."
"Muscle relaxant?"
"Muscle relaxant."
Arthur stared into his beer.
"Did I do anything wrong today," he said, "or has the world always been like this and I've been too wrapped up in myself to notice?"
---------------------------
The one thing that makes living downtown worth it is being able to walk to the Bennigan's two blocks away, have three pints in memoriam and stagger home.
I plan to repeat this ritual again tomorrow night. Anyone in the vicinity of downtown Fort Worth is welcome to join me. Bring your towel.
And if I made no typos in this post due to my intoxiation, it is simply an amazing coincidence brought on by incredible imporbability...
We'll miss you, Douglas...