…The Words Right Outta My Mouth

I had been thinking about going for awhile now.  When at work.  When at home.  When up at Marlin’s Inn.  But in reality, actions speak louder than words, and words speak louder than intentions.  So in reality – I was still on the “words” part of whether I’d go find and talk to Hank.

For the past week, Hank has been basically acting like a baby.  Those are Santiago’s words – not mine.

Also Santiago’s words:

Besides, if he’s finished with here, he has a tab to close!

I never understood the concept of a running tab at a place as dinky as this.  I’m sorry.  I love the Inn, but it’s a shit-hole.  And I’m just one of the turds swimming in it as long as it lasts.  Those are Kilgore’s words – not mine.

Also Kilgore’s words:

When the powers-that-be decide to flush, I’ll see where the pipes take me.

I mean, what if Hank had died instead of taking up bingo, seemingly full time?  I’m sure if he even has a will, paying off his debt at the local hangout is nowhere to be seen, signed, and carried out.  Who has time for foolish games like bingo anyway?  Those are H.L.’s words – not mine.

More of H.L.’s words:

I haven’t even told you guys about the pink light yet… right?

Someone once told me this: 

It takes two people to forge a bond.  It only takes one to break it. 

Those are Hank’s words – not mine.

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  1. […] chatting her up to get her to even see me in that certain light.  You know about that light.  Not H.L.’s pink light, but that shine someone gets when your view of them changes.  I guess that shine can fade away, […]

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