"Mister Hopson. You scheduled an appointment with this office. So I need to tell you the truth."
I said no thing.
"Okay. You have to quit drinking Mister Hopson. You really do."
'If not? What am I looking at?'
"A year? Maybe eighteen months?"
I got up out of the chair.
"Oh, I need to go over your lab results. I'm not finished."
'I understand. But I am doc. I am,
Finished. Thank you!"
Smiled! And walked thah fuck out!
Looked up at the cloudy Indianapolis sky and pondered?...
Now what thah fuck sounds good today?
A full-bodied lager?
Or is ah niggah feelin a lil
Light?!...
(Peace! More to come...)
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