When my wife and I first moved into our house, my autistic brother decided to lay in the front yard, where the guy across the street came out to check on him. He was a nice guy, this guy named Jeff. Very friendly, albeit talkative. Reminded me of Dubya in his resemblance and friendliness.
Jeff had helped me on several occasions in the short time we'd lived here, be it furniture pickup or assembly of a homemade compost bin.
Jeff has a great wife and three daughters, all of them stunning. He worked at a construction company as a manager and appeared to have the respect of his colleagues.
That was the Jeff I knew about a year ago. He's a mess today, thanks to Jack Daniels.
Since then, Jeff has taken out most of his youngest daughter's college fund, presumably for booze. He's been to several detox clinics, but only going during the day, and eventually checking himself out.
A couple of weeks ago, Jeff feel down the stairs and was taken to the hospital via ambulance, where his blood alcohol reading was 0.45. Yes, over five time the legal limit. Pushing fatal levels. But he was conscious the entire time.
According to his wife, he has reached such severe stages of alcoholism that his brain has shrunken and has little feeling in his extremities.
He's recently done weird things, such as put a "for sale" sign in front of his house, to try to scare his wife during an argument. When I asked him about it, he lied and said it was about pulling a joke on me.
So I don't know if I should ever bother talking to him. If I approach him, he'll lie his way through it, then possibly do something even more rash. Today, I had a very small talk with him as he got into his car and drove away.
Yes, he no longer has a license. But he drove away anyway.
He's driving most everyone and everything away.
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