Last night I met up with some friends at a local dive for a mellow evening. All of us had shit to do today so we agreed a low key night was in order so if you think I am writing this from my bed, mid afternoon, you assumed correctly.
The night started out innocent enough, a few friends watching the game, enjoying some cocktails. All nights that end in a shit show begin like this…everyone involved is unknowingly headed down that dark road…the road that leads to copious amounts of Advil and Gatorade.
The funny thing about hangovers is you know exactly what is coming, yet you do nothing to prevent them from happening. As a matter of fact you do the exact opposite. Half way through the evening the thought of your busy day tomorrow crosses your mind, and rather than finish your drink and head home, you decide it’s a better idea to take a shot, which of course turns into 20. Of what? Doesn’t matter…If it burns and comes in a bottle, you’re drinking it.
If you touch a hot stove and get burned, that one experience is all you need to never touch it again so why is it hangovers do not seem to register in our long term memory? When it comes to liquor, we will never grasp the concept that there are consequences for our actions. I guess I did manage to learn one thing from my epic hangover this morning…we are all just a bunch of alcoholic masochists.
No comments:
Post a Comment