I'm so low, I could sit on a dime and swing my feet. Flannery has gone to Nashville and is drinking good bourbon at Tootsies while I'm sitting here.
She's walking down Ol' Music Row, doing some window shopping. I'm eating reheated pasta and sitting here.
She said dinner wasn't that great, but she went to Doc Holiday's and had a few drinks. She trys not to slur or giggle too much on the phone but she does anyway. She's having a good time. She shouts "Whoo-Hoo" as Billy Idol comes on the jukebox and I'm certain her fist is pumping in the air above her head, but I can't see it over the phone.
"I love you darlin', and I'll talk to you tomorrow," is all I can stammer out.
"I love you too baby," she whispers and she is gone.
At least I got the laundry done.