As was the case as usual, I made an appearance at the alley house. Playing the guitar for a good roll, Dale had also decided to make an appearance. Wasted as usual, Dale walked in and was offered a beer by Jessie.

Jessie is the nephew of Dale, a 17-year old guitar (gee-tar) guru and one fuck of a kid to hang with. So it’s only obvious as to the offering of beer to Dale on Jessie’s part.

Around 50 years-old, Dale is a bit if a drinker I must say, perhaps closer to a guzzler more so than a drinker. Dale is the father of a kid that my brother and I grew up with while I was an early teen. His round small spectacles rested on his slender face atop his mass of a beard, giving him the persona of a biker-pirate. This particular night Dale was sporting a blue welding cap/hat that was branding the rebel flag. His swagger is one of similarity to that of Jack Sparrow. A country boy at heart, Dale is pure redneckness.

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