I undressed and went to bed.
I must have consumed over a quart of whiskey.
My father was still snoring, just as he had been when I had left, only at the moment it was louder and uglier.
I slept anyhow.
As usual I approached Mr.
Hamilton's English class thirty minutes late.
It was 7:30 a.m.
I stood outside the door and listened.
They were at Gilbert and Sullivan again.
And it was still all about going to the sea and the Queen's Navy.
Hamilton couldn't get enough of that.
In high school I'd had an English teacher and it had been Poe, Poe, Edgar Allan Poe.
I opened the door.
Hamilton went over and lifted the needle from the record.
Then he announced to the class, "When Mr.
Chinaski arrives we always know that it is 7:30 a.m.
Mr. Chinaski is always on time.
The only problem being that it is the wrong time." He paused, glancing at the faces in his class.
