Stories Are the Only Thing Worth Dying For!

A man, already visibly drunk, stumbles through the door of a bar. He trips over to the bar and plants himself assertively onto a stool. He yells his drink of choice at the bartender.
"Please don't rush him," says a old blind black man sitting a few feet down the bar, "He's new."
"Dongivadam," the man mumbles. "Juss need mur drinks..."
"That's not at all the reason that you were given a liver you know," says the old man.
"Shuddup."
"What occasion merits such indulgence?" the old man asks.
"I gotta per...permo... permushun."
"Ah. Congratulations. But why ruin that by getting this drunk? Why not celebrate with your children?"
"My money not theirs..."
"Is money all that matters to you then?" asks the blind man. "Is that what makes you happy."
"Do I not look happy to you?"
"I am a very very old man. I can tell you that people are the only things in this world that will ever bring you happiness."
"Dontalktome..." The man gets up and starts tripping towards the door.
"Please come back!" the old man says urgently.
"I don't need to listen to you," he says as he goes out the door.
Seconds later, a car horn screams, brakes cry out, and a sickening crunch is heard.
The old black blind man sits crying at the bar.