The worst night, ever.
I’m rarely far from random hyperbole. To an extent, it’s just part of the gig. Booze, in those moments when it has hold of you, usually makes things bigger and bolder. And when you’re writing about the moments when booze has had hold of you, well… But I’m also a product of the society in which I live. And in today’s social-media-infused, live-tweeting day-to-day, each new moment is the funniest/saddest/most exciting/profoundest known to mankind. Ever.
But my worst drinking night—or, better yet, nights—ever? That, young Skywalker, is what you call “real talk”.
I began thinking about the topic while writing my hangover post.
Three tales immediately jumped to the forefront in my mind.
None of them has been published in its entirety before now, though certainly not for lack of entertainment value. And, while I’ve had terrible nights that have been broadcast at On the Rocks—like, say, my birthday in 2008—I rank these three higher on the overall list. Maybe that’s because all of them happened back when the therapy that comes from writing about my debacles just wasn’t available. Or maybe, by subconscious tally, I’ve determined these to be the three tales I reference most at parties and other moments with friends. Whatever the reason may be, these are the crème de le crème of my boozing fails.