Constitutional scholar

Jefferson lies curled on the cold concrete. He looks more comfortable there than I do in my bunk. A semi-circle of firefighters, cops, and medics stand over him.

“Jefferson, how much have you had to drink today?”

Mumble-mumble-mumble.

“Come on, Jeff, let’s get up on the stretcher.” We assist him up and into the ambulance.

“Jeff, how much have you had to drink today?”

Mumble-mumble!

“Ok Jefferson, how old are you?”

Ain’t talking to you. I drink the fifth.

“Uh, what?”

Nuthin’ to say. I. drink. the. fifth. Mumble-mumble-mumble.

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