Like a lot of alcoholics I often don’t have the sharpest recollections of what I did the night before. So often, the next morning, it’s like I piece it together by returning to the scene of the crime and searching for clues. For instance:
As I was walking down the hill from my campsite I spotted my discarded beer cup lying on the ground. “Oh right. That’s where I was sitting and drinking my last beer of the evening around 1AM and talking about how my beer gut makes it tough to button the top button of my trousers.”
And then farther down the road: “Oh there’s my 6-pack of beer over there, stashed in the bushes, I hid it there because I didn’t want to carry it all the way up to my campsite.”
And then further down the road: “There’s my jacket draped against that park bench and my headphones lying on the ground. I remember getting rousted by that cop around midnight and I had to pack up in a hurry and accidentally left them there.”
And so on. As I piece together what I did the night before.
And of course my trail of late-might drunken Facebook posts are often awaiting me like an unhappy surprise to be faced in the cold harsh light of morning sobriety.
Everybody who knows me knows I’m not a “morning person.” You wake up on the average with about 300 hangovers per year, you’re rarely in a state of good cheer in the morning.
Plus it’s pouring rain. And I only got about 4 hours of sleep last night in a cold, hard doorway. And one of my best friends was hauled off to the hospital yesterday on the verge of death. So I’m ready to kill the next person who looks at me funny (what can I say I’m a little edgy).
Fortunately its 8am and the basement cafeteria in the Student Union Building is completely empty (students are all gone for winter break).
So I take my coffee to the farthest corner of the cafeteria where I can get some much needed peace and solitude and ease my shattered soul into the day.
For whatever reason, in this completely deserted basement, this young maintenance guy picks this exact moment in time and space to come over to my little corner of the Universe and start REARRANGING ALL THE CHAIRS AND TABLES!!! For no apparent reason. They look perfectly fine the way they are.
And as he drags each chair and table across the tile floor THEY MAKE THIS LOUD SCREECHING NOISE!! I mean it’s like a fingernails-on-blackboard kind of sound. Only much louder.
And so I’m glaring at him (if looks could kill I’d be doing 20 to life right now). Is he doing this on purpose to fuck with me? Or is the Universe conspiring against me for some karmic crime I committed in a previous lifetime?? (Actually, in retrospect, when I sobered up I realized he was just doing his job and I was being an asshole. So shoot me.)
Whatever. I quickly pack up all my stuff glaring in his direction while muttering Italian cursed under my breath and rush off to the other end of the cafeteria in search of a quiet solitary spot where I’m unlikely to commit any felonies.
And how did your day start?
Great moments in American history! December 5, 1933. Prohibition comes to an end!
If they ever have a National Alcoholics Day as a holiday, December 5th would be the perfect day for it.
In fact, the more I think of it, in order to atone for Prohibition (1920 – 1933) I think we need to institute a 13-year period where alcohol is forced on ALL American citizens. Compulsory alcohol consumption. For all Americans. That means YOU. With severe penalties (fines, jail-time and/or public floggings) for all tea-totalers and sober bastards. Throw the book at the whole sorry lot of them. Sure, they can walk in a straight line. Way to go! Am I impressed.
So I am pleased to announce the beginning of the Antihibition movement. Mandatory drunkenness, under penalty of law.
Prohibition was started by the so-called Progressive movement. And just look where progress got us.
Hell in a hand basket. So I’m forming the Regressive movement to get this country back on the right track. Starting with Antihibition. Sign my petition now. Let’s get it on the 2016 ballot. No longer will we allow this country to be degraded and shamed by the doings of the sober minority amongst us. Down with sobriety! Up with drinks!