horse of george

"... I was in the corner market resupplying my stock of eau d'hops and found myself lined up at the checkout behind a burly, gruff looking fellow who was vying with fain success against a distinct wobble and slur of speech... seems he was attempting the return of a half used twelve pack of strong beer that had sorrily disappointed him... he was pleading with surprising earnestness to an increasingly unamused cashier a case of I know exactly how drunk six extras should make me and if I ain't that drunk then the beer's defective and if the beer's defective you owe me... for a moment I mused that once you got past the absurdity of it it wasn't an entirely unconvincing argument... and then I found myself thinking it's striking how many people there must be in the world that I have absolutely no desire of ever meeting or, once having met, ever meeting again... and then I thought a bit disturbing no how thin the line can sometimes be between cunning and gross stupidity... and then I thought given current circumstances I wonder if there's a sillier, more hollow sounding evocation than God Bless America... as he wobbled away, having failed to melt the cold heart of this most severe of magistrates, I cast one last look over his cursing decay of flesh, flirted briefly with mordant sympathy, and then with a cruel smile concluded bet he voted for Gingrich..."