 Why did Retief want to talk to the drunk?
THE MADMAN FROM EARTH BY KEITH LAUMER You don't have to be crazy to be an earth diplomat—but on Groac it sure helps! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, March 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] I "The Consul for the Terrestrial States," Retief said, "presents his compliments, et cetera, to the Ministry of Culture of the Groacian Autonomy, and with reference to the Ministry's invitation to attend a recital of interpretive grimacing, has the honor to express regret that he will be unable—" "You can't turn this invitation down," Administrative Assistant Meuhl said flatly. "Miss Meuhl," he said, "in the past couple of weeks I've sat through six light-concerts, four attempts at chamber music, and god knows how many assorted folk-art festivals. I've been tied up every off-duty hour since I got here—" "You can't offend the Groaci," Miss Meuhl said sharply. "Whaffle left here three months ago," Retief said, "leaving me in charge." "Well," Miss Meuhl said, snapping off the dictyper. "I don't recall dictating any letters today, Miss Meuhl," Retief said, pulling on a light cape. "Since I'm cutting out the culture from now on," Retief said, "I won't be so busy." Retief looked thoughtfully at Miss Meuhl. "You've been here on Groac for four years, Miss Meuhl. "Mr. Retief, those are just the sort of questions we avoid with the Groaci. We try never to reopen that wound, Mr. Retief." The pale-featured Groacian vibrated his throat-bladder in a distressed bleat. "The importance of my task here," Retief said, enunciating the glottal dialect with difficulty.
 He wanted to know what happened nine years ago.
 He wanted someone to talk to on this foreign planet.  He wanted to know why the drunk was mad at him.  He wanted to know what happened nine years ago.  He didn't like how the drunk had treated him.