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(14.4KB, 1496x1346) I was walking "home" from a great speakeasy, a speakeasy hidden behind smelly dumpsters and an unassuming back door, marked on the map only by a helpful local cyclist. A great time was had by all. I helped my newfound friends back to their home safely and began the extremely short, chilly, extended-by-alcohol retreat through the city street. "Home."
Then afar I saw some teen-likes, maybe 6. Two were smart enough to sit for a break. The other three were pushing a trolley around containing the sixth in an ecstatic thrilling rush of wheels. This girl was screaming in light-hearted excitement.
Those fools must have assumed inebriated old me was respectable, or something, just because I was some years older, since one of them pushing around the trolley said "Sorry!" as I walked by.
Ha!
I simply said "Don't worry, it's fun". [I'm sure you Discordians understand that this is a profound statement despite the poetic compression of language.]
>"Have a good night."
<"You toos." [sic]
The moral of the story is: if you can drink have a Trinidad Sour, do.
