Dipsomania

In my last post, i wondered if Rob was a drinker.

This morning, Rob joked with a customer about how Merry Lore*, the company we worked for, should serve tequila shots on the floor. I turned around and commented, "If that was the case, count me in!" The guys broke into boisterous laughter.

Late in the afternoon, i overheard Rob talking to Clark** the manager out in the hallway. Rob is usually pretty loud anyway so it wasn't like i was straining to listen in.

"Nothing is worse than running out of Diet Coke and..." the rest was obviously whispered.

My curiosity piqued and feeling a little frisky, i walked out to inquire, "Diet Coke and...?"

Rob whispered, "Southern Comfort. I drink Southern Comfort."

Brainwashed by the latest advertising campaign, i replied, "Aah! Soco!"

We exchanged smiles and parted ways. Within 2 minutes, Rob flitted in my office again. Rob is always flitting.

"I hope i wasn't interrupting your conversation earlier," i opened.

"No! Clark and i were just talking about how it sucks to run out of stuff when you're drinking at home," Rob said. I was all ears.

"Cuz when you're drinking," Rob went on. "You can't drive. Then you're like, dang! I'm out. You need to remember to stock up!"

I nodded in deep empathy. I never have that problem of low supply though. I know all about stocking up. In fact i'm so paranoid i always restock weeks ahead. JD used to crack jokes about this little quirk of mine.

At the end of the day i ran into Rob again in the parking lot. "Going home, Rob?" i yelled.

"Nah," he yelled back. "I'm never home. Like last night, i played racketball and got home around 10:30."

Rob, Rob. No need to overcompensate for information previously shared, okay? You're an alcoholic. I'm onto you. Mystery of the perpetually rosy cheeks officially solved.


*Not its real name
**Not his real name