The value of a bad habit (A true story) by mgaft1

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· @mgaft1 ·
The value of a bad habit (A true story)

It happens, at times, that a shortcoming can turn to you with its unexpected facet and became a rescue anchor. 

Once we went to the restaurant.  I forgot what was the occasion: jubilee, bar mitzvah or wedding. For sure it was not the funerals.  It always the same old thing; everyone eats, drinks, gets up, and says how great all the people who came are great and wonderful and then dance.  The difference with funerals is that people come to a restaurant during the day since this a morning occasion and, of course, no dancing. 
The rest is pretty much the same.

This time we went to this Russian restaurant and, of course, got loaded there all the way.  Only as far as alcohol drinking is concerned – I am a black sheep – I cannot drink.  Not because of some moral or medical reasons, but simply because I don’t like the taste.

I, actually, tried enough different vodkas: Stolichnaya, Absolute, Smirnov, Gray Goose, Popov, Svedka, Popov, Pepper Vodka, and every time this repulsive taste.  Well as if I tried only vodkas…I tried cognac and gin and brandy and tequila.  All the same.  
It’s like Disneyland – hate this place.  Wouldn’t go there if it were for free.  Imagine how I feel if I must pay for this “pleasure.”

Anyhow, because of this bad habit, I don’t have friends. Once we were invited with my wife to visit some people. I am sitting quietly and eating, not bothering anyone.
Some guy across from me started bothering me.

“How come your glass is still full?  You are not a sincere person.  You are not drinking but only pretending…”

He was right about this.  Indeed, I only lift the glass to my lips and only pretend that I am drinking, without parting my lips.  But this is already my business!  As I said – I don’t like the taste!
So, I explained to him that so and so, I don’t drink, because I don’t like the taste.  

“You don’t like it?” he flamed, “Do you think I like it? But I drink despite it!”

“This is,” I am telling him, “is your personal choice. 

You may be doing what you don’t like and I am trying to avoid it.”
Then he started from a different end; as if I don’t respect him.

“No.  I said. 

It had nothing to do with disrespect! I don’t even think about you at all.  How can I disrespect someone whose existence I don’t even care about?”

And he is “Drink, I insist! Drink to my health!”
I grew tired of all this and this time speak out loudly.

“Why are you bothering me? Leave me alone! 
Well, to make the long story short, we haven't been invited in that home anymore.  But I digressed.

Coming back to that Russian restaurant… Once we finished, we got out of the restaurant, sat in the car, and went.  I am a designated driver, of course.  My wife could have a drink sometimes.  Not that she loves it, but simply out of respect for a fellow man or woman. And can say a great toast, a real one with a tear.

As soon as we moved 300 yards, I see a police car. 
Came from nowhere and sirens me oooooooooooooooooooooooo…

I am stopping.  Thinking what could this be?  Maybe my registration has expired?  When he came to my window I asked him.  “Officer, what’s a matter?”

And he tells me, so pompously, with righteous vigor

“Have you been drinking today?”

At this moment, I figured everything out.  They just had a post near the Russian restaurant.  It’s almost a 100% probability that they could nail a “DUI” case.  No need to drive far, and perfect for a monthly reporting, and great for the city treasury.

The USA is a great country! You feel like you came to a boy scout camp before all the bosses arrived.  You can walk on the grass, drive around, and live anywhere you want. No one cares.  No one sticks their nose in your business.  You are a citizen of the World!  Only pay.

I recall, once our house got robbed.  The police didn’t even come. It only sent us one fat woman to take the fingerprints.  “I am”, she is saying, “a contractor working for the police.”  That’s how it all ended.  
However, here, near the Russian restaurant, they made an ambush. 
Well, statistics, of course, is a great science, but this time they messed with the wrong man!

“Of course,” I said, “I drank. Two bottles of mineral water, two glasses of Coke, and one more Sprite.” 

He stumbled a bit but then recovered. 

“I am interested in whether you drank alcohol?”

“No,” I said, “I didn’t and I don’t. Sorry.”

But he isn’t giving up.  After all, I probably tore him away from coffee and donuts.

“Get out,” he said, “we’ll be checking you out.”

And he started to check me out: walk on the straight line with closed eyes, and breathe into the tube.  Nothing.  Then his lady partner came over, covered her mouth with her hand, and whispered to him 

“Leave him alone. He is a waste of time. Don’t be a sore loser. Take it like a man.”

Poor guy was so frustrated, he almost cried.  He wanted to nail me sooooo bad.  Imagine he did everything right and yet the perpetrator broke loose.  I felt bad for him, but oh well… 
Eventually, he got a hold of himself and spoke…

“Move along!” 

That’s how it happens.  A definite shortcoming could sometimes turn to you with its warm side, with its shiny anchor of salvation.
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created2020-05-17 03:47:24
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