Wolfe’s Woofer: Liquor and Women

“Ali, bring me two beers,” Charley called. “And don’t forget the glass of ice.”
“Do you want anything, Mister Dennis?” Ali asked as he served Charlie’s beers.
“I’ll just take an ice cold bottle of water,” I told him.
“Well, how was Mexico?” Charlie asked.
“It was great,” I said, “but it’s always good to get back home to San Pedro. I wouldn’t even go to Mexico except that it’s cheaper to go see the doctors there than it is to fly to Belize City.”
“What did the doctor say about your health?”
“He said I’ve got the constitution of a horse and that I’ll probably out-live him.”
“He’s probably right,” Charlie said. “If I recall, your dad lived to be about eighty.”
“He was eight-six,” I said. “My mom lived to be ninety-three.”
“Living long seems to run in your family.”
“It does.”
“My family lives a long time, too,” Charlie said. “The oldest person in my family was my grandpa. He lived to be one hundred and two years old.”
“That’s amazing,” I said. “What finally caused him to die?”
“Liquor and women,” Charlie replied.
“That just goes to show you,” I said. “Both of them will get you in the end.”
“Well, it’s not really what you think; towards the end, Grandpa couldn’t get either one so he just laid down and died.”

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