There is an old man who always sits on the porch of the taverna where we eat dinner every night, and he is always drunk. He is known as the village drunk. Tristan, who used to be my T.A. and is now my friend, told me his story.
When he was a young man he was proud and rich, and he married the most beautiful woman in the village. He became a barber, and his profession made him even more prideful. He beat his wife, and eventually she left him.
He started drinking, and soon lost everything.
And that is his sad story.