Heart Songs

I’m in a hotel in lovely Scranton for work – yes there’s not much to do here except make clichéd jokes about The Office – and just ran into my first interesting experience of the trip.

As I was finishing up some work at 10:45 p.m. – my boss is a slave driver – there was a knock at the door. When I went to open it, I was greeted by the some random drunk dude.

Before I had the chance to ask him what he needed – besides some coffee – he slurred something about how he knocked on the wrong door. His face was beet red. He reeked of cheap whisky. And he nearly fell over. In short, he was pathetic.

Looking at that guy, I wonder why I ever drank. … Did I really look that way when I was trashed? If I did, I should have quit drinking a long time ago.

(The title of this blog post is also the name of a new Weezer song. I thought it was appropriate for this introspective moment.)