“Yer all shitt!” Vince bellowed sloppily. He was drunker than
ever. He tossed his cards on the table, spilling chips. He pushed
himself away from the table, toppling three beers.
Bousa jumped up and glared at the wobbly drunk.
“Why don’t you get the fuck outta here, asshole!”
With heavy effort Vince struggled to his feet. He attempted
to get to Bousa but his legs were dense and his feet were
like anchors. He dropped his numb hands on Denny’s shoulder
for support. He wavered there trying to focus his foggy eyes
on Bousa.
“Somebody call the morgue” said Mickey. Vince turned his
head to face Mickey and blurted something unintelligible
then he shuffled and stumbled away from everyone to the
nearest piece of furniture - a coffee table - and he sat down
on it, knocking over a lamp and an ashtray. He laid back on
a pile of newspapers and exhaled heavily. Bousa reverted
to his seat. “I guess we can deal him out.”
“Let’s call his wife - see what she’s doin’. He’ll be out for
awhile” added Mickey. They laughed and started a new hand.
Vince was snoring but he heard every word. He could listen
but he could no longer speak. He was paralyzed with
alcohol. He thought about his wife. He wished he was having
sex with her. With her and the plump but cute latino girl
he’d seen at the 7-11 earlier that evening. It seemed so long
ago. They’d been drinking since six. It was only midnight
now and his wife would be calling for him soon and she’d
yell at him to come home but of course that was impossible.
It seemed like hours later he again became conscious.
He thought he heard his wife’s voice. He pried open his
eyes and there she stood above him talking loud at him.
She tugged at his arm and he slipped off the table and
dropped to the floor and tried to get back to sleep.
When he again became aware, it was Mickey’s
hick impression he heard. The guys were making a lot of noise. Vince cranked open his eyes and managed
to look towards the card table. His wife was dancing
on it. Her skirt was hiked up and her bra was off and lay
in the kitty. She was gulping malt liquor while
squeezing her breast under her half buttoned blouse.
