A very sobering experience?
On the topic of life imitating art, this guy in the bottom photo is straight out of one of my favorite short stories. I’ll be pretty impressed if any readers can identify it.
But enough of that. I hate to admit it, but I guess I just don’t get out enough.
We have a series of photos from something called a “sobering-up station,” which apparently they used to have a lot of over in Russia but now they don’t have so many because money is tight.
I’m not clear whether we have anything like those here, other than what we call our “homes,” unless you count the “drunk tank” at the jail. I suppose this Russian thing must be in-between those two extremes.
This particular “sobering-up station” is in Stavropol, which is the sister city of our own Des Moines, Iowa. I’m tempted to ask how drunk you have to be to need a sobering-up station, but I guess I already know the answer to that from the tattoos.
“Hi sweetie, I’m home! Yeah, I spent the night at the sobering-up station next door. Sorry I didn’t call, but I couldn’t remember what a telephone was.
“And by the way honey, you’re not even gonna BELIEVE what I found on my back this morning!”
A sobering-up station in Russia’s southern city of Stavropol, November 12, 2009. Many of Moscow’s sobering-up stations, of which there were plenty in the days of the Soviet regime, have been closed due to lack of money. REUTERS/ Eduard Korniyenko