POV of the drunkard

My spirits were high within and without
Walking on stars was I
Minding my business, keeping to the sidewalk
An old wrinkled hand pulled me by my collar
Crashed me to the ground.
I slowly rose up
Studiously ignoring his helping hands.
I snarled at him, ” Ya old geezer!
Whaddaya mean bashin’ me about?”
Smiling at me the old brute said,
” Go home, young man, sleep it off”
Sober was I as judge and slowly sauntered off