The good girl

Out of curiosity, I walked up to the girl who was drinking coke by the free-flow bar. Guzzling wine from my glass that never empties, I asked her why she chose coke over free alcohol.

“I am a good girl. I don’t drink. I don’t smoke either,” she replied. “Oh by the way, I am married too – before 30!”

Which makes me what? Satan reincarnate?

I excused myself and wandered off to find a yellow box to have a cigarette. As I dragged on my Dunhills, I thought about what she said. It sounded so wrong.

A good person, to me, is someone who has a good head on the shoulder and kindness in the heart. Someone who does not further his/her own interests at the expense of others. Someone who is nice to his/her friends and respectful to strangers.

Just last weekend, I met a guy who is all that. But boy, was he fucked up. He is always unnaturally high, drinks like a fish, smokes like a chimney and lives in a dump.

But as I observe him closely, I realized that he has such goodness in his heart. It’s the little things that he does. He is always running after his screwed up friends (to make sure they don’t collapse and die), extends a helping hand to whoever needs one and always have a warm smile for everyone. He is such a joy to be around despite his obviously bad personal habits. And everyone flocks to him to bask in his presence.

He is what I call, a good boy.

So please do not judge someone solely by their self-destructive habits. Just because they are not good to themselves does not mean that they are not capable of being good to others. I agree with Abraham Lincoln who said that he never trust anyone who doesn’t have vices. After all, we are only human.

So therefore, I conclude that I am a good girl too - with some naughty habits.

And if I meet another person who tells me they are good just because they don’t drink, I’m gonna whack them on the head with a beer bottle…...