Mr. High Bottom
I thought I was a high-bottom drunk. A pint of scotch in one hand and a sixteen-ounce Budweiser in the other. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I liked to take alternate sips of one or the other--sips! What am I saying? I mean slugs. I was a gulper, a gulper who hung around with guzzlers so I'd have somebody to feel superior to. Once in a while I'd find myself drinking with a sipper. The guy would drive me nuts. Why doesn't he just drink the damn thing and get it over with? What's his problem anyway?