Blue Collar Royalty Apr. 2015 | Page 43

  “Did  you  think  about  drinking  at  all  while  you  were  dragging  this  guy   around?”  George  asked.       “I—uh  .  .  .”  The  crackle  and  fuzz  of  the  connection  was  deafening.       I  hadn’t  even  realized  that  the  entire  time  I  had  been  following  Norman   around,  I  hadn’t  thought  about  drinking,  or  not  drinking,  or  what-­‐would-­‐happen-­‐ if—nothing.  The  monkey  on  my  back  had  shut  up.  The  circus  had  left  town.     “Oh  .  .  .”  I  said,  deflated,  “I  suppose  not.”       Another  touchdown  came  through  the  phone.  Somewhere,  a  crowd  was   going  wild.       “Well,  good  for  you,  dummy.  Now  get  to  a  meeting  and  tell  them  about  it,”   George  said  before  hangin