Josiah thought it was damn near impossible. He’d never thought this before; usually standing up from the booth and walking to the bathroom didn’t take much. But now, drunk as he was, drunker than he had ever been, he wasn’t sure his body would do what he wanted. Just standing up was tricky, so he tried to stare at the TV above the bar hoping it would look like he was watching the rodeo.
His tongue sought out the long whiskers on the side of his mouth. A gesture Dot used to say made him look “madder than an Old King Crow”. He never did find out what an Old King Crow was and now Dot was dead so what did it matter anyway?