quote:Originally posted by Claymation Quartermain: What is your personally worst story when you were drunk? How much did you drink? What were you drinking? What happened? And how bad was the hangover?
Popular topic, I see... Okay, I'll bite. Where to start? Telling a guy with a loaded gun that I was going to kick his ass? Thankfully, he fired a warning shot at the sidewalk and not at me, as I really doubt that he would have missed from 12 ft away... I walked backwards really, really fast and that was the end of it.
Perhaps eating a beer glass? To this day I don't know how I accomplished the feat with no prior training. I didn't cut my mouth at all, ground the glass up and swallowed it with no ill effects, though I was scared for years that I might start bleeding internally.
Hangovers? Being a strong proponent of hair of the dog, hangovers were never an issue. As for how much did I drink? An average day would see about a fifth of vodka or 100 proof schnapps disappear, sometimes twice that amount...
The only time that a hangover was an issue was shortly before I quit in 1988 (yeah, 6/26/18 will be thirty years sober). I was at a SF convention in the midwest and a colleague in the book biz was a member of the local absinthe society. He brewed the stuff the old fashioned hardcore way with loads of wormwood for that extra kick. As y'all likely know, true absinthe needs to be at 130 proof which with the added thujone makes it quite the asskicker. Anyway, he brewed up the traditional green absinthe and also a clear variety. I recalled a story of Ernest Dowson and friends drinking seven absinthes and I figured if a yellow-nineties poet could put away seven, I could certainly do eight, so I had four and four.
The evening progressed nicely, I was blasted, but certainly had seen worse, I was well able to carry on coherent conversations with friends and colleagues until the wee hours of the morning when the absinthe guy called it a night and all that was left to drink was about half a fifth of rye whiskey (not my favorite thing, but it was what it was); I ended up drinking most of that and called it a night around 3AM.
Sunday morning... Holy ****!!! I hadn't had a migraine since my early twenties and had never had one with the room spinning at the same time. Damn, it was bloody awful and I had to get ready to catch a plane back to the NW at 2PM. Someone had thoughtfully left a couple of pint cans of beer in my room the night before, and those helped a little bit. Still, I've never been as hungover and miserable as I was that day. The flight back to Seattle was a nightmare. I was pleased to find that I had an unopened pint of vodka at the house as liquor stores are closed in Washington on Sundays. Yeah, that was the worst...
Now if you want to talk about going into alcoholic withdrawals WHILE YOU'RE DRINKING because you can't get enough alcohol into your system, I've got loads of those stories to tell *shudders*. Yeah, I don't miss the stuff at all.
-------------------- "What you say sounds reasonable enough," said the man, "but I refuse to be bribed. I am here to whip people, and whip them I shall!") -Franz Kafka - The Trial