Speak in haste. Repent in the cemetery.
![Whiskey glass tumbles from balcony Whiskey glass tumbles from balcony](https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fafb0789b-a22f-4a2b-bc44-7f7a96a3a360.heic)
ALICE AND TOM STOOD ON THEIR BALCONY overlooking the town park as the sun settled below the horizon. They’d spent the long weekend lazing around their apartment half-naked in pajamas drinking margaritas and binge watching The 3 Body Problem, and True Detective: Night Country, which led them into a foray through Twin Peaks Return to quench their thirst for the odd and unusual.
The only time they left was to bike to the Sahara Lounge, where they closed the bar, then slept in until two o’clock Sunday afternoon when they made brunch with Bloody Marys and watched a spring training game on the MLB Network. Sunday night Tom grilled Boudin sausages on the balcony, and not the soft sausages either. He grilled them until the cases were hard, splitting, and dripping onto the fake coals. They ate them with cornbread, coleslaw, and okra washed down with Devil’s Backbone Belgian-Style Tripel ale.
Now it was Monday evening, and tomorrow they headed back to work—Alice to her job as art director at BDS&M downtown, and Tom to his job writing code for Shazam games. Shazam games which raked in coin every time an idiot with a phone or tablet clicked on an in-app purchase, and there were a lot of idiots out there clicking on in-ad purchases. To the tune of three million in-app purchases a year ranging from $2.99 for the starters’ boost packages to $99 for the comprehensive weapons kits. (One use only, of course).
Tom and Alice spent the long weekend lazing around their apartment half-naked in pajamas drinking margaritas and binge watching The 3 Body Problem, and True Detective: Night Country.
For a company richer than some states, they treated their employees like sweatshop labor. Especially the coders like Tom, without whom their stupid games wouldn’t work. Which was why he’d downed even more drinks than usual. Which also might be why Alice suggested, “Maybe you’ve had one drink too many.”
Tom drained his glass. “How much is one drink too many?” Then, to punctuate, he wobbled to the bar (having had more than one drink too many) and splashed more single-malt Scotch onto the counter than made it into his glass.
Alice stood in the balcony’s sliding door with arms crossed and a fingernail tapping her wine glass. “Probably about six drinks ago.”
Tom wrote code for Shazam games. Shazam games which raked in coin every time an idiot with a phone or tablet clicked on an in-app purchase, and there were a lot of idiots out there clicking on in-ad purchases.
He stumbled back onto the balcony and tipped his glass, spilling half over the rail. “Maybe you should count your own drinks and let me forget to count mine.”
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