One More/Last Call

The party was already over and most of the crowd had left; not that it mattered. It had been a long time since the bar was really any fun. Drinking had become a necessity, not a choice.
“One more,” he slurred.
The bartender grinned and leaned in close, “this one will cost you your car.”
The drunk man was shocked at first. But laughed it off and drank. A small price to pay. He could always find another car.
“One more,” he demanded as he finished his drink and put the empty glass on the table.
The bartender looked at him from behind the poorly lit bar and said matter of factly, “this one will cost you your job.”
The drunkard paid no heed and slammed back the drink, staring at the bartender without blinking. It couldn’t possibly be true, and if it, was he would eventually find more work.
This continued, and with each drink the price increased… His home. His family. His self-respect. His dignity. All traded for just one more. Each drink was followed with the logic and rationalization of his intoxication and insatiable craving.
Now it was last call. The bar was closing, but the drunk was still so very thirsty.
“I’m gonna need one more for the road, but I have given you everything I have.” The drunk was feeling desperate and uneasy, worried he wouldn’t get enough…all he needed was just one more.
The bartender smiled, winked and slid just one more drink across the bar. “This one will cost you your life.”
If you are like me, just one more will kill you…
~ S.D.


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