High as a Kite

Strange night. All the regulars were gone except the barkeeps and one old man (Richard#2).

I sat along the back wall and waited for what might happen.

Nice looking guy in a suit walks in, sees me, freaks out. He was high as a kite. Here's how it sounded when he talked with me -- a lot of information in stream of consciousness, eyes flashing all around. He was disheveled but middle class in his bearing and look.

"I-need-loving, 11-years-sober-relapsed-walked-out on-wife-22 years-married-two-kids-using crack-got-a-whore-and-I-bought this-suit-$450-doesn't-make-me-feel-better-was-going-to- shave-clean-up-a-little, but . . ."

At this point his whore walked in frantically. My impression was that the connection was outside and she needed $20. They thrashed around with each other for a bit and left the bar. Outside a group of people were anxiously looking around for their product to be delivered.

OK, Lord, help him to fight his way back.