A Day in the Shoes of Drunken Uncle Rick

Stumbling Home

Rick slammed his glass down on the bar counter, making a couple beside him slightly flinch. He didn't care, if they didn't want to be disrupted, they shouldn't of come to the bar! He sighed and looked down at his drink. That was his... Twelfth? Fifteenth...? Ugh, he didn't care. He was just drinking his sorrows away. He'd been rather depressed lately, and the reason for that is his girlfriend, Kat, was leaving for two months on a business trip where she had no cell service or wifi. It sucked major balls. The last thing she'd said to him was that when she got back, she'd "make him a sandwich". Whether that was supposed to be sexual or not, Rick didn't care. Both sounded good. He decided he should probably leave for the night, before he got too drunk. He got up, and stumbled his way out of the bar, knocking over at LEAST three people. He hadn't counted. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, and got in his car, and started it up. He sighed.
"I hope I don't crash into many things..." He mumbled. "Kat isn't here to bail me out." He then proceeded to run over a motorcycle, and drove off towards his brother's house, since he figured it was waaaaay closer than his house. It wasn't safe to be driving drunk, he thought as he pulled out a glass of beer he'd stolen from the bar, and drank it. Hopefully he made it Wheatley's house accident free...