Not So Lucky

I wore an overcoat in a hospital corridor. It was a long black wool Crombie hand tailored in Scotland. I bought it at a Thrift Store with sleeves that hung past my palms and a missing button. But this was a bad hospital in a bad part of town, so by these standards I was dressed for success. Besides, my makeshift cane was beat up and splinetery. I had a confrontation with a barstool at the One Lucky, the loser bar I mentioned in a prior post. I'm a regular of sorts now, even though I don't drink much. My confrontation was with a barstool that collapsed under my weight. My right knee swelled up like a balloon. The manager was apologetic and let me use one of the broken legs as a cane. I fell on my head abit, too. But I didn't tell the doctors. Being a bit punch drunk is about the only way I can make it through life at the moment. But I do recommend that if you go to a Thrift Store, grab yourself a Crombie. Just make sure you get the sleeves fixed up. That is unless you hang out at the One Lucky and plan to go to hospitals with a barstool cane.