The car accident and the ghosts of the past

So C got in a car accident with some guy who was on the phone and BAM t-bones him.  The car is a complete write off.  But I think what pissed C off the most is that the guy did not apologize or say anything to him.  So He pretty much bitched all night about the fact that the blue book value of his car is never going to get him another car....about ass holes driving on cells and well....those two things, but over and over and over again.
 Packing away his bedroom I find a bottle of rye in a boot.  Well, half a bottle.
"SHit, I thought I got all those."
"All what?"
"The hidden bottles."
"Why are you hiding bottles when you live alone?"
"Drunk me knew dry me was not going to get to work if there was half a bottle of booze lying around in the morning.  And drunk me was at least smart enough to figure out that working was important, if only to keep buying booze."
   Wow, that is fucked up.  "you keep it."  Ummm, no.  There is just something a little too weird about that.  Empty that fucker down the sink and keep on packing.  I managed to convince him to come back to my place, where at least the window unit gives some relief to the heat.  The fact that his bed is now in pieces did help a bit.  He is so old fashioned about stupid things.  My parents aren't home so who is going to say anything about him spending the night?
   ANyway, waiting right now on him getting up so we can get started on the big move.