Don't tell me you think I'm actually that clumsy.
Maybe I should cut down on it a little. But it's rather stressful having to do rescues all day long. I feel a lot better after I've had a good pint. Or two, or eight. Nah, I don't actually drink that much. Just kidding.
Usually it's in the morning when I'm having breakfast, I like a little sip of a good beer going along with it. Oh, stop looking at me like that. It's not like anyone knows, or if they do, they certainly don't say anything about it.
I actually blame this drinking beer thing on Skye. And Chase. I wish Chase would get his head out from the clouds and realize Skye isn't interested. Who is interested, though, is a certain yours truly. Or maybe that's the beer talking. No, wait, I started drinking after Chase got a crush on Skye. Definitely me talking. Me wanting to…um…I'm going to keep this PG, if you don't mind.
Do you know that every once in a while, a shipment of beer comes by and gets delivered to Mr. Porter's grocery store? I've never seen anyone buy it, so I guess Porter himself engulfs it all. Along with me. That's why I help out with Mr. Porter unpacking things so much, when he's not looking I take one of the cans. You're looking at me accusingly again. Stop it. At least it's not cigarettes.
No, I don't smoke. Jesus, I'm not that much of a rebel.