[Late 2007 -- The Pacific Northwest]
Harp the bartender walked over to me. "Del, I heard a good one yesterday," he said. "How do you get virgin wool?"
"I don't know, Harp," I said.
Harp replied, "From ugly sheep."
I groaned. "Bad, Harp," I said. "Slow day today. Only one other person here."
"She's a regular," he said. "She looks down to me, man. Gets drunk on screwdrivers every damn night."
"She's not bad-looking," I said. "Don't know what her real hair color is, but peroxide-blonde looks good on her."
"She's gotta be in her late 40's," Harp responded. "I don't know, man. Del, I know you like 'em older, but..."
"How about a refill on the quinine water?" I asked. "Also, why is it $4.75 for it? Just make it an even $5, it'd be easier." I forked over a fin and Harp rolled a quarter at me.
The quarter rolled off the table and started to roll across the floor. I bent down to get it -- the luckiest movement of my life.
From my angle, I could see under the table of the blonde woman. She had a sharp knife blade resting against her wrist, and was clearly about to slash. I shot over to her like a bat out of hell and dived under the table, smashing the knife out of her hand before she could inflict a fatal wound.
I sprang to my feet and in the same motion scooped up the woman in my strong arms. Dragging her outside, I pinned her against a wall and looked her straight in the eye. "What the hell was that?!" I yelled at her, more scared than angry. "You can't kill yourself! You must have something to live for!"
"Who the hell are you?" she gasped. "Anyway, I have no reason to live. I'm a total loser. I have no family, my ex-husband is long gone, and all I do is drink away my sorrows. It's time to end it -- let me go!"
"I'm Del," I replied. "Who are you?"
"People once called me Bambi," sobbed the woman. "That was long ago... when I had a life."
"Bambi," I said, "come home with me. Things can't be that bad."
At my house, I got Bambi calmed down. She told me she was once a policewoman back East, but someone had tried to frame her for a crime, and soon afterwards she divorced her husband. Her life had been in a slowly accelerating downward spiral ever since. She was now a drunken bum, broken down by life.
"How similar to me," I said. "I once had a wife and a son. I loved them more than anything. Bad luck that my wife wanted to live up here -- some scumbag of a dealer turned her on to crystal meth shortly afterwards. She wigged out on a combination of booze and meth one day when I was working and killed herself -- and my son."
The dealer who sold the meth was put away for manslaughter and died in prison, but it hadn't helped. I had never touched alcohol again, but my life for 2 years hadn't been the same. "So," I told Bambi, "we're like two peas in a pod. If I can get by, so can you. Incidentally, I was telling Harp how hot you were right before... you know."
Bambi looked at me with surprise. "You think I'm attractive?"
I pulled her body against mine and kissed her on the lips -- hard. When I broke for air, I replied, "Yep, I do."
"Really?" she asked. "You can't possibly think that. I'm a broken-down drunk who lives in a flophouse. I stopped caring about myself years ago. I use peroxide on my hair to keep it blonde, but that's only out of habit. How can I be attractive?"