Tiny, Martilla and I had already gathered round when Virgil made his entrance. After the usual hail-fellow-well-mets, Martilla continued to tell us about her latest hair-raising toot.

Virgil inquired what she did finally to sober up. "Coffee," Martilla shrugged. "There's nothing worse than a caffeinated drunk," Virgil observed somberly.

Martilla, who had preceded Tiny and me to the Snapper by several hours, was ready for a fight. "Are you calling me a drunk?!" she snapped.

"Hell, no!" Virgil roared back. "When I talk about 'a drunk' I'm talking about a condition, not a person. You know damned well that when I say I'm coming off a drunk I don't mean Tiny."

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Tags: Southern living humor