I knew a girl for awhile who’s dad was a butcher. He worked different chain grocery stores around Boise over the years. He drank real hard and regular. Wether this made him restless or his restless ways kept him drinking, I don’t know. He moved from job to job as time went on, as he and his knives wore down. I thought then that a drunk with a cleaver was bad medicine for sure.
The girl moved on too, restless like her dad, so I never made the seven hour trip to Boise to meet her folks.
Somebody said she works for the phone company, but I don’t know for sure.

by – Doug Mathewson