The Inebriated Flâneur

It is time to get drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk; get drunk without stopping! On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish.

-- Charles Baudelaire

I was given a field sobriety test one night by a couple of cops. They didn't want me out drinking and walking. Not because it was illegal, mind you, but because I was 'disgracing all young white men everywhere.' Whatever that meant. These cops were both black.

We were in a convenience store parking lot. They made me put a finger on my nose and another on top of my head and walk a few times the length of one of those concrete humps they put in parking spaces. Easy. So then they told me to walk the length of it while rubbing my belly and patting my head. Also easy. Then they modified this by asking me to alternate every time one of them said 'harlem renaissance.' I managed.

They stared at each other a moment, then said, "Okay, wise ass. Do all that shit we had you doing, but recite the alphabet backwards."

"Z and Y X W V U T S R Q P O N M L K J I H G F E D C B A."

"Z and Y X W V U T S R Q P O N M L K J I H G F E D C B A."

"Z and Y X W V U T S R Q P O N M L K J I H G F E D C B A."

"Z and Y X W V U T S R Q P O N M L K J I H G F E D C B A."

"Z and Y X W V U T S R Q P O N M L K J I H G F E D C B A."

"Z and Y X W V U T S R Q P O N M L K J I H G F E D C B A."

I did that a few times. Then they just laughed and told me to go home. Of course, I was drunk as hell, so when I went to step off the concrete lump, I fell.