I was snoozing in my easy chair when the "Ghost of Christmas Past" spirited my spirits a way, meaning that he snuck into my house, drank all of my booze and then he wanted me to take him to the liquor store for more.
But on New Year's Eve, I wasn't about to drive or walk so he agreed to take us there.
I do not know why I agreed to go. Maybe because I was still half a sleep and thought I was dreaming.
We floated on the fumes of his breath. I did enjoy floating along with the breeze looking into windows until I saw a naked man exercising. When I flinched from the view, I almost fell off the drunken ghost's breath.
I asked to fly higher or maybe take the freeway but he grumped something about me not keeping my mind on the business at hand. We were going for booze, not window peeping.
"You've had enough booze," I snorted "and if I want to window peep I will." I reacted like a teenager. "Don't tell me what to do."
He also reacted like a teenager. "I will drink if I please," he snorted.
We floated to a stop in front of the liquor store and his breath dissipated. I plopped to the cement in a heap.
He chortled, "There you go, smart ass. You don't even know how to dismount from a cloud of alcohol breath. Where would you be if you were riding a storm cloud? I'll tell you where. You would be flipped around like a rag doll and probably thrown all the way to Mt. Ararat and all those stranded animals."
"Mt. Ararat? Stranded animals? You're crazy."
"You're confused," he replied. "Ghosts can't be crazy. Or to put it another way, crazy people are not allowed to become ghosts."
"I suppose you have a ghost control center," I said,
"Sure! Do you think it would be smart to allow just anyone to become a ghost? Think of the havoc it would wreak. I mean, consider letting Charles Manson become a ghost. I shudder to think of what harm he might do to our reputation."
"If crazy people can't become ghosts, what happens to them?"
"I don't know, that's not my department. Besides, we came for a bottle of booze so if you would please just hop on in there and get me one, I would be grateful."
"Where's your money, I asked?"
"My, you are slow," he said. "Haven't you ever heard the phrase, 'you can't take it with you'? So, if I couldn't take it with me, maybe you might just figure out that I don't have any."
"I'm not paying for your booze," I told him.
"Well if you're broke just go in there and steal a bottle. I'm not particular. Any one of them will do."
"I'm not a thief. I think we should just forget the whole thing. It's almost midnight and I'm tired. You just go on back to wherever the hell you came from and I'll take a cab home."
"What time is it?"
"One minute until the New Year arrives."
"Oh no," he moaned. "It's too late."
Then I heard a voice that seemed to come from the moon. "Okay, CP, it's time to return. You're done for this year."
The Bells in the church tower began to usher in the New Year and Christmas Past just faded away.