…and half

5 Nov

“We could stop eating altogether.”
“Sure. Hunger is good discipline.”
“You always say that.”
“I always say that. I always say that? I’m getting old and senile. Repeating yourself is the first sign of…”
“So what then?”
“What about cutting it in half?”
“What? Eating or drinking?”
“Whichever. Both.”
“I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”
“I don’t either.”
“What about bigger glasses?”
“That will help to cut down?”
“In half.”
“It will help to CUT down?”
“You go slower.”
“With a bigger glass?”
“YOU go slower. I just pour more.”
“No, you’ll see. Trust me.”
“What kind of glass?”
“Bigger. Just…you know, bigger cup.”
“With the long stem?”
“Yes, that kind.”
“I can’t hold that straight.”
“Trust me.”
“All right.”
“Do you? Do you trust me?”
“Yes. I do. It’s much easier that way.”
“You always say that. You always talk…”
“I told you…”
“Senility. I know. I heard.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“When the time comes, I’m putting everything I own on red and taking a bottle of Wild Turkey and a pistol into a suite at Harrah’s in Vegas…”
“You won’t remember if you’re senile. Besides, some guy from England already did that.”
“He did?”
“What happened?”
“He won.”
“Did he now.”
“He did. You don’t have anything worth anything. You don’t own anything.”
“Then plan B.”
“Just trust me.”
“Bigger glass? Yea?”
“Trust me.”
“I do.”
“But what?”
“But nothing.”
“Then what? What is it?”
“Nothing. It’s…nothing. There’s nothing original anymore.”
“Wake up.”
“Up you wake, up you wake, up you wake.”


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