‘It was that stop at the liquor store around 5 p.m. that underscored the local intoxication with the Bills. I stopped at a big box store, huge selection of wine and spirits. Save for the security guard and employees, no one there. Crickets. “Geez, am I that bad for biz?” I kidded the young cashier as I ponied up for my cheap bottle of chard. “No,” she said solemnly. “Bills lost.” I had paid no attention. Final score from the Meadowlands: Jets 20, Bills 17. The lone car in the parking lot was mine. “It’s always like this when they lose,” she said. “No one wants to go anywhere.”’