Drink Up

Locking the closet door was going to be tricky. The key had been lost long ago so he figured his resolve would keep the door secure. On the other side were bottles of alcohol, vodka and gin, that were being sequestered. They had been bad children and were in time out. He had the cheeky idea of just locking himself in the closet with the kids. That way he could drink his children in the dark and not have to expose himself to the raw, weird light of drinking your own children. Then he thought he might prop a chair against the door handle, like you see in movies when you’re trying to keep Jason out. Jason with the butcher knife. Like a game of Clue. Jason with the knife in the closet. But a wedged chair never works and a chair jutting out into your dining room, one you could catch a toe on, is more a reminder of what is unlocked away. Jason is really in the closet. The call is coming from inside the house. I was thinking about Denny’s. The restaurant was a crime scene, some Denny’s in South Carolina, and they needed to lock the front doors. Well, Denny’s is always open (it says so on the sign) so they never bothered installing a lock. Never cut a key. Always open.

And there’s Jason having a Grand Slam breakfast.