Two Shots of Rye...

There's those who say booze is not a solution to one's problems.

Fair enough, but I think that really depends on the problem.

Twenty minutes I sat on a BART train, waiting for a police action to clear. If the intercom was correct, there were two other stations shut down due to police actions.

I was tempted to just get the hell out and walk, but I was sore, cranky, and in the mood to be irritable.

Later, I got home. Shortly after that, I had a Manhattan. And then a second.

I didn't stint on the whiskey.

And I felt much better.

Sure, that much whiskey on an empty stomach made things a bit difficult (preparing dinner has been fun), but I regret nothing.