“And I can’t. Is that what you’re trying to say?”
The misery I had been feeling since I awoke was now taking the form of anger and annoyance.
“Check me on this,” she said. “From what I’ve heard, during your recent trip to Perv, you got into a fight didn’t you? After you’d been drinking?”
“Well . . . Yes. But I’ve been in fights before.”
“From what I hear, if Kalvin, the Djinn, hadn’t sobered you up, you might not have survived this one. True?”
She had a point there. The situation had been a bit hairy. I had to admit that my odds of surviving the brawl would have gone way down if I hadn’t been jerked back to sobriety by Kalvin’s spell.
I nodded my agreement.
“Then there’s last night,” she continued. “You really wanted to make a good impression on someone. You dressed up in one of your spiffiest outfits, probably dropped a fair hunk of change, and then what? From the sounds of it, you got carried away with the drinking until you can’t even remember what happened. You don’t even know what went on, much less whether or not your date had a good time. That doesn’t sound like you … at least, the you that you’d like people to remember.”
I was starting to feel really low, and not just from the aftereffects of the night before. I had always thought my drinking was a harmless diversion . . . or, more lately, a way to ease the pressures of the problems confronting me. It had never occurred to me how it might look to others. Now that I was thinking about it, the picture wasn’t very pleasant.
Unfortunately, I was still a little reluctant to admit that to Bunny.