Lunchtime

Bottle of good bourbon. 49.95. The label claims its from a single barrel poured on 22 March by hand from barrel #377, and rated at 93 proof. A lot of words that equals me embracing that wave of pleasure. Delicious. Can't stop listening to obscure late 90s punk rock. Sounds of my youth. Memories flash with every burning sip. Amazing, the powers of recollection when the fire of such good booze burns deep. My gods, has it been that long? I feel like I am looking at a slideshow of laughter, awkward sexual encounters, blind friendships, and unrelenting hopes. Such good whiskey. Smooth, hints of vanilla and coffee. I can almost smell that desert air. See that ambition, FEEL that earnest of wants and desire. So stupid. So trusting. Random girl in the passenger seat of my truck. Who is she? Doesn't matter, she is a reoccurring character who is always played by a different actress. You know, like the wife from Fresh Prince. Well, except young and white and attractive. Fuck. Damn good hootch. if this was lunch, what could ever be for dinner?????