I was hungover when I arrived at the City Clerk’s office. I had been out all night at Union Pool despite the fact that I knew I had to be a witness for my best friend Thal’s wedding early the next morning. It was just a formality so they could celebrate properly with a ceremony and reception in Providence a couple weeks later.
With whiskey and PBR squeezing themselves out of each and every pore of my body, I reached to hug Thal. “You’re late,” she said. She flipped up the navy blue newsboy cap I had pulled over my eyes and continued: “And you’ve been crying.”