And then....

...sometimes the folks you meet at a bar are a nightmare. The kind of person that's is fun for awhile, then you realize they are a plain old alcoholic. Lose their credit card, lose their money, lose their job, lose their wife. Always tell the same stories. Always have a sob story. Touch you for a round every time they see you. Call you buddy or mate or pal while they take a cigarette from your new pack. That shit gets old. Shoot me if I or the Husband ever becomes that. Seriously. Consider this my "living will" statement of intent.