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a Bad Influence
Down in the Dirt (v129) (the May/June 2015 Issue)




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a Bad Influence

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Always As Honest As Your Last Drink

Benjamin Sabin

    It happened that night. William was drunk—as drunk as he’d ever been without blacking out—when a woman had come racing around the corner and grabbed him by the loosely fitting coat.
    “Did you see him? Did you see my boy come by here?” she said. Her grip was tight, pleading, as if his coat could help.
    “No,” said William.
    “Are you sure? He just ran this way. You’d have to be blind.”
    “Blind drunk,” said William, convinced that he was the cleverest man about.
    She let go and he floated backward out of arms reach.
    “Maybe I did see him,” he said. “Short little guy, right? Tousled hair?”
    “You saw him. I knew it.”
    “How could I not? That little bastard stole my wallet.”
    “Which way did he go?”
    William pointed. “Down by the river like he had a fire under his ass.”
    “Thank you, thank you so much. I thought I’d lost him.”
    The woman ran as fast as she could in the direction that William’s finger had indicated and called out as an afterthought: “I’ll return your wallet when I find my boy.”
    William finished his smoke, walked back into the bar, and ordered a drink with confidence.



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