What's up? Besides us?

Look, going to CVS is rarely a good idea. Going to CVS at 1:45 a.m. borders on insanity. The quality of people you encounter at CVS at a quarter to two on, well, I guess, technically, Sunday, is only slightly more impressive than those you meet after, say, a Jerry Jeff Walker concert deep in the heart of Texas - although there is more body art at CVS.

Over there in aisle three some woman who looks like she just fell off the Guns & Roses tour bus is attempting to (finally) purchase condoms.

Aisle seven - hair care products - has her partner. The guy in bell bottoms, sporting a grey beard longer than my dissertation, and a "The South Will Rise Again" belt buckle large enough to serve ors 'de oeuvres on, desperately seeking some way to cover the grey in his pubic hair without suffering from a rash. I know, I asked him.

Then there's the lost Latina in aisle six buying Doritoes and candy bars thinking that the kids have got to eat.

I don't even want to know what the hipster in aisle ten is looking for, but I am hoping to high hell it has something to do with skin care.

Don't even let me take you to the liquor aisle. That's where you'll find me and six or seven hopeless, insomniac, drunks, stoned off our ass and attempting to decide if the IceHouse at $7.99 a twelve gives you more bang for the buck than the Heineken six at the same price.

In all this the person I feel real sympathy for, the person in whose shoes I would never walk a mile is the benighted 21 year old with an IP degree who some how got roped into working the bizarro shift.

Seriously kids, I am intolerable sober. At a quarter to two, with a 12 of Miller Genuine Draft in my hands and a stolen ATM card, I am completely off the chain.

So, when this poor, misguided soul says to me with the politeness and the utter lack of sincerity that can only be pulled-off by those who work in places that sell booze late at night, "What's up?" And, I respond, "Besides you?" Things go downhill fast.

WSE