Off Fourth, before midnight, El Cid and I are wrapping up
a suicidal subject call when a rich, drunk couple comes
staggering by us. He’s taking a half step sideways
for each step forward. She’s melted into him.
He’s going to drop her any second.
“Huuu-iiigh Offfissersss.”
They’re happy.
Evening.
You need help?
“Naawww. Werrrrre ffine.”
You’re not driving are you?
“Nawww. We havve a hotellll.”
Where?
“The Embassssseee.”
It’s two blocks away. They won’t make it without falling.
Let me help you.
They both agree.
El Cid takes her arm. I take the right.
They are down from the mountain celebrating their 25th anniversary.
He keeps commenting, “Tthank you. You’rre the city’sss finest!”
At the hotel, they are too drunk to leave in the lobby,
so we walk them to their room.
In the elevator, he says, “Yyeww know what offisser?”
What?
“Yourre ah really ugally guy.”
I smile. El Cid rolls her eyes.
We make sure they make it into their room.
On the way back El Cid and I laugh.
She states it may her new nickname for me.