I slipped. All right? I made an ass of myself. I got drunk, shouted things, I don’t know what things, stupid things, next thing I know three cops bust in, pull me off the window ledge. I didn’t exactly “assault” them—well maybe I threw stuff. I have shingles, all right? Shingles hurt like hell, plus I’m a diabetic. I’m not off my bonnet. You know what I am? A kid. Fifty-seven years old and inside still a kid. Thank God for child psychiatrists. You know? Thank God for child psychiatrists for big kids like me.
This story is really strong. I liked it a lot. Good job!