I will never understand why anybody who’s having so precious little fun here on earth is so damned intent on living forever.

I’ve got to jump in the shower.” “I’ll Uber home,” I said. “Do you realize you just made a noun into an intransitive verb?” I wiped my mouth. “Story of my life,” I said.

Where’s Nadine?” “She went out for a walk the other day and didn’t come back.” “Really.” I tried to sound surprised. “No sweat,” he said. “Pussy may well be the only true renewable resource, Leo. I’ve got another one lined up for when I get back.” I had to admire a man with that kind of insight and planning.

These guys had names for every conceivable drinking situation. They liked to have a little eye-opener to get themselves going in the morning, a midmorning bracer before attempting anything serious, a few modest cocktails at lunch, followed by the obligatory afternoon pick-me-up, which segued neatly right into happy hour and ended with a little one just to help them sleep. For purely medicinal purposes, of course.

Buddy eyed me closely. His eyes were filigreed with red. I watched as he went through one of those instantaneous mood swings that only drunks and menstruating women can manage.