One day I walked in and could tell that Larry and Roxie had been occupying their posts at the end of the bar for the majority of the day. A lot of the customers come in as soon as they leave work and don't leave until way into the evening, often ordering pizza from next door to tide them over while they demolished most of a case of beer, often without any visible effects on their affects. Not this time. Roxie was slurring her speech so bad she sounded like a crackhead. She was nodding off into her beer, and when she got up to play darts, she was throwing toward the wall, but nowhere in the vicinity of the dartboard. Roxie was a dart league champ.
You okay, Roxie?