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The Chris Chandler Show

  • Chandler films about New Orleans

    9th Ward New Orleans #4

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    9th Ward New Orleans #4
    by Chris Chandler

    I am in love with a drunk.
     
    Oh sure she functions, like most drunks do. But, isn't every drunk at least on some level a functional alcoholic? One man's dysfunctional is another man's high achiever.  Depends on your expectations, I guess.

    I don't think she has ever had a lot of those. It is both her beauty and her blemish.  She is easy.  Big easy.  She has one of those jobs where people don't mind if you show up late, and a little tipsy.  They give her extra sick days – and don't mind if when she calls in all raspy throated, saying "I've got the flu."  (Which really means "I'm hung-over.")

    Part of it is she lives in a really rough neighborhood.  I guess she has to. After all she has been through, where else could she afford to live?   The worst of the worst show up on her door steps.  They use her, till she has little left to give. She has seen her best friends murdered, pistol whippings, break ins, muggings.  She has seen it all.  Yet, even as hardened a street walker as she is – even she is shell shocked.  

    Sure, parts of her manage to squeak by, like any functional alcoholic. She just doesn't live up to her potential.  It would be one thing if she were one to go through this life a dull flame -- content with dying at an early age of cirrhosis after her greatest achievement was to take your order from behind the counter at a Popeye's in Metairie.

    But she is not that.  She never was.  In her day she inspired millions.  People still write songs about her: about what grand parties she throws, what a remarkable cook she is, and how great she looks at four in the morning wearing nothing but voodoo and fog.  

    She does throw a good party.  She gets dressed up. She wears a mask so ya can't see the dark circles under her eyes. In the right light, she is exquisite.  It is in that moment, she will lure you in, get you drunk and take advantage of you.  But the next morning, when you wake up and see her with out the mask, make up kissed away, beads lying in the gutter being eaten by rats, she is sad. So sad, but still so beautiful.

    A few years back, things got really bad for her, and we had to have an intervention.  Had to bring in the cops.  A lot of cops. We had her on suicide watch. While she was lying there at her most vulnerable she was raped and left for dead on the side of the river.  It was tragic.  Truly Tragic. It took weeks, months for her to come out of the coma. All her friends and loved ones sent her money, for a time – hoping to help in her recovery.  They came from all over the world to sit by her side.

    But now, things are as bad as ever and everyone is really tired of hearing about it.  No one is going to give her another dime.  Not that I blame them.  She, of course. squandered most of the money she was given and what she didn't squander she was swindled out of.

    She has always been so giving, for someone with such a propensity for trouble.  It makes her easy prey, and that has left her hard. Now, the sweetest lady in the world has turned mean.  She carries a gun, and she has a habit.  She has crawled back inside a bottle and although the cork has been removed she is not coming out for she has no way to grant your wish.  She may stay in the bottle for a long time.

    I am in love with a drunk.