It was a glitzy little spot in the city, all lit up with laughing, bleary-eyed inhabitants, sipping cocktails, and moseying around. Jazz music played over the loudspeaker and you could hear the clink of glasses as people toasted their momentous nothings. The door opened and an enormous man, partially clad in uniform, entered. His head…
More Than a Dust Jacket: The Story of a Tattooed Drunk