Tale from the Imperial
Last night when I got to bowling I was surprised to see the guy (Rich) that said the previous week was his last week because he had violated his probation and was being sent away to treatment. So I asked him why he was there and not in treatment.
He wasn’t in treatment because when he went to treatment they told him that they couldn’t accept him because he was on anti-depressants. Now he has 2 weeks to wait and then they send him to a different treatment center.
Then he went up to the bar and bought a pitcher of beer, for himself.
He took two drinks from it. Then his phone rang. It was his wife.
She told him that his Parole Officer had just came to their house to give him a breathalyser test to make sure he was sober. The Parole Officer was now on his way to the bowling alley to administer the same test there.
He slid the pitcher of beer over to his friend (Steve) and went up and bought a Pepsi.
A few minutes later the Parole Officer showed up and took him outside to give him the test. He passed, but only because his wife had called him.
This has been an interesting bowling season.
Labels: Life
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