Lucifer's Retreat

I sat on a Zoom call with a dude from the other side of the globe, somewhere in New Zealand. I was emotional; I needed a fucking drink. I damn sure needed to get laid, not from some dude in New Zealand that was just a phase in my life in the college I never went to. We were talking all the shit you do when you go sober, you know. All the good shit like the drinks, the binges waking up next to something that looks like it escaped the zoo or Area fifty-one. And trying to figure out the bullshit you were going to sell your chick like. "Honey, I just lost track of time. You know how I am about work. I got to slow down. I really miss you, though, sugar." "Oh yeah, that's funny. I recall you said you had to broaden your horizons as you proceeded to make a total jackass of yourself, leaving with some woman who looked like Abdul, the tent maker does her dresses." "Wow, that's fucked up, sweetie. I'm so sorry, but..." "And furthermore, you left wit...