The other day Dick said to a friend: "Roz was the first girl I could out drink and the first girl I couldn't out eat.*
(Dick was a distance swimmer. I was a distance runner.)
*Actually I could have out drunk him. I just never cared for alcohol.
D (coming into the room and leaning over my shoulder, reading): Actually I don't think you could have.
R: I could and I can. Want to go at it right now? Pour 'em out.
D: Christ, she's a little dog who thinks she's a big dog.
Obviously dear reader Dick and I are not going to do shots at 10:30 p.m, which is when I am writing this. I just know I could out drink him (he only has two drinks a month). Unfortunately all we have in the house is good bourbon, good Scotch, and good beer. "Good" as defined by Dick's tastes; I don't drink any of that. I like Pernod. (It tastes like "Good and Plenty.")