Wi**** Posted May 21 It was six months after my first wife left. I was in about as ugly a mood as I had ever been in. I was supposed to be playing music for the Grand Opening and Fish Fry a new Local Lounge. Unfortunately, by the time I was supposed to play music, I was already ***. She came in with her Mom and they were talking to some friends who owned the lounge. I leaned over and asked my friend's girlfriend if she knew the beautiful woman who just come in. She told me and I asked if she was married and was delighted to find out that she wasn't. I stood up and steadied myself and walked over to where she was standing. I told her my name and that I would love to take her out to dinner and get to know her. She looked right into my eyes and said, "I don't date drunks.". I could see my reflection in her eyes. Those big beautiful brown eyes were showing the reflection of a man leaning on a cue stick and holding a beer in each hand. Before that moment, I had never considered myself to be a drunk. But sadly, I couldn't argue with her eyes so, I turned around and went back to my table. As I sat there watching her every graceful move, I promised myself that I would change her mind about me, if it was the last thing I would ever do. I left those two beers sitting on the table and got up and went home. I went to the bathroom and stood in front of the floor-length mirror looking at myself. Suddenly it was an obvious fact why she had been so blunt. I looked like roadkill and not fresh roadkill either. I would go to a little Strip Mall near my house and buy a pair of jeans and a shirt. When I changed clothes I would toss the dirty ones in the bathtub. After several weeks, I had accumulated a bathtub full of clothes that had only been worn one time I took a clean sheet and spread it out in the bathroom floor. I tossed all the dirty clothes on the sheet and tied them in a bundle. I took a shower and shaved, then dressed in my new pants and shirt. I called my friend and asked him if he would take me to the laundromat. I was full of three days worth of black coffee, but I still probably didn't need to be driving. NEXT TIME (THE LAUNDROMAT)
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