A bedtime story

Imagine; three guys sitting at a bar.   One an addict, one a doctor and one a narcissist.  I know it sounds like a joke but it is very true.  As the hours played out they drank and spoke of the normal things spoken in situations like this.  Eventually the conversation turned to her.  The alcohol began to take its toll.  The addict slurred “I once had her but I love my vices more.”  The doctor chimed in looking down at his hands.  “Heck, I once had her but she loved the soil and I love my hands and my money.”  The narcissist added; “Well fellows, I once had her too.  The problem is I love me, myself and I.”

The moment was interrupted by the sound of a bar stool moving out from the bar.  All three men look down the way.  There stands a Cowboy looking back at them.  A slight grin crosses his face.  He motions for the bar tender to refill each of their glasses and places payment on the counter.  The three guys looked at each other puzzled and then back at the Cowboy as he started for the door.  The addict took one big swig then held up his glass as if to say thank you, the doctor swirled the contents around studying it before taking a sip and the narcissit, feeling unsure about the moment yelled out to the Cowboy.  “Hey are you not going to have a drink with us?”  The Cowboy stopped at the door, turned around, tipped his hat at the three guys and stepped thru the door.

See the Cowboy had to say nothing because his words had already been spoken over the years.  Thru words and actions.  What once was, was not his was, but his is.  There was no drink to quench his thirst in this bar.  Only the lost and lonely left behind.  Cowboys get the girl.  

Goodnight my dear Rhett.

Zazie Lee