I had decided that I wasn't going to bother signing the petition to get the wet/dry issue on the ballot in November. I have lived in this county for Forty years and signed every single petition every single time one was presented to me. Nothing has ever come of it. Some years, it actually got on the ballot, but mostly it failed to get enough legitimate signatures, or so the election commission said.
So, this year, I decided to give up the ghost. If I want a glass of wine with dinner, I have only to drive twenty or thirty minutes in any direction, and just across the county line there will be a liquor store with owners eager to take my money and add to their county's coffers.
However, this evening, I got a phone call from a gentleman offering to bring the petition right to my door so I could sign it. Well, who could turn that offer down? I have never had anyone bring a petition to me. All they ever do is announce that there are petitions being circulated and then they leave it up to me to find one.
He said he'd be here before 8 O'clock. Uh-oh. NCIS will still be on, I thought. But, nobody is ever on time, so I relaxed and enjoyed the show. As I thought, he didn't arrive until about 8:15. I intended to sign the petition while he stood outside on the welcome mat, but it was a bit cumbersome and he wanted to explain it to make sure I understood how I was to sign it. So, in her came and I signed it and, after a few minutes of chit-chat during which he told me that I kept a nice house and complained about his own apartment, he finally left.
At one point, he explained that the county needed to be wet so he wouldn't have to drive for 30 minutes with a beer between his legs so he could cool off on his way home. I kept looking at him and thinking that he reminded me of someone. It finally came to me - he reminded me of Foster Brooks.
It was at that moment I realized that he was hammered. Oh, yes he was.