
"
Are you ... an alcoholic?"
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Step-what ...
daughter? Nah,
nah, no - all I got is a girlfriend, I got no wife or kids - I
can't have none,
no, ya mistook my words, I said that I'm
datin' my
boss' daughter; she herself don't got one, I got one!
I mean - no,
I don't got a daughter - I don't even know what it is yet, I - wait,
wait - now ya got me sayin' things that
I got all wrong, uh ... I never meant to ... oh god, kid. Ya makin' me say things I've never thought I would.
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Uh ... I guess ... I guess ya right. I've been drinkin' since an age far too young for anybody to think acceptable. It was never a problem before, I'm a friendly type when on the bottle, don't go beatin' nobody or nothin'. And to answer ya friend over there, that ... floating an-drog-y-nous beep-boop machine ...
yeah, I does. It makes me feel free,
more than I am ... most of me is flash, kid. Slick naggin' and boastful showmanship. Liquor makes that act not as much of a burden. I do it lots when I'm travelin' away from my lady, to ease the loneliness and pass the time, and I have to usually leave by train and -
well - I'm sure ya were quick enough to catch why I don't like bein' on those too long.
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One night, a month or two ago, I was on a swanky one of 'em - cabins, bar cart, whole thing - feelin' anxious and juicin' myself up, when this talkative fella sat next to me. Tall drink of water with white fur, gentle thing, had long danglin' arms and this sleepless look in his eye. I wasn't too shy about swappin' stories, and then he gets all close-like and says "
ya pretty, miss," all charmin' and such. He wanted some smooch-smooch, and ... I don't why, but ...
I did it. Heh, we did
more than that. I've never took much interest in men, but this one was ... well, he must've reminded me of someone. Somethin' comfortin'. We both woke up next to each other in his private box when the train pulled into the station and we wondered what the
hell we did.
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I tried justifyin': "I couldn't recall my name, I wasn't myself" and other tunes. I decided it was easier to lock myself up in guilt and never breathe a word about it. Weeks later when I was home, I was feelin' real sick all of a sudden, and my girl poked my big tummy and giggled that I was chompin' on too many sweets. I went to the doctor's where they gone and told me ... it wouldn't be too long until there was an egg.
I ... I don't blame the fella, in truth. We was both out of our heads when it happened, I'm not even sure if it was
I who lead us to his room ... but that mistake is still here. Growin' in me.
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I haven't told nobody yet,
especially not my girl. Ya know, it must be so nice for those loveless marriage ladies to lie to their husbands and just say that they're havin'
his baby. How's he supposed to know better? But ...
basic biology, hun, how the hell to do ya tell
ya lady ya makin' a child? And I don't wanna get rid of it either, I don't want to stash it in an attic somewhere and not take care of it;
I'm its mama. My mama loved me, and I ain't about to kill her spirit by lettin' it see me treatin' my own poor ...
but how's it gonna eat? I tell my girl, and she'll leave and my boss will kick me to the curb. I'll be deadbeat broke, alone and starvin', and
everybody I ever hurt in my stories will come after me.
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Until then, I'm keeping clean for the ... miracle of birth. Though, ya know the second it's outta me, I'm gonna be swadling the kit in my right and holding a martini in my left, heh ... my life is a tickin' clock. All it is now is waitin'. I'm just tryin' to squeeze the last few drops out of it while I can.
Claudette has confessed to Jauntier!