I’ve never been drunk.
I’ve never really had alcohol, either. I’ve had various reasons for abstaining over the years (being an underage goody-two-shoes; then having medical conditions; then succumbing to inertia), but result is that, in all of my 26 years, I’ve probably consumed less alcohol than is in one can of beer.
No, the only times I ever get tipsy are on days like today: when I’m sick as a dog and I reach for the NyQuil™.
I took the recommended 2-tablespoon dose a few minutes ago. I’m already feeling a little buzzed. I’ll be slurring my words and speaking incoherently within a half hour or so, at which point I’ll probably make a drunken pass at my wife.
And, y’know what? Mebbe I’m a little proud that I do such a crappy job holding my liquor, even if my liquor’s just cold medicine. One of my brother’s friends, he spends a lot on booze, y’know? An’ he told me heez kinda jealous — that he wishes he could get drunk offa one dose of NyQuil.
Gonna try to sit up … Whoa … head rush. Balance is all funny … better sit back down.
Ahh, here’s Stacey — snuggling up in bed. “I love you,” I say.
Mmm – she just shifted her position. “I luuuuv you,” I purr.
Shifted … again … “Ayyyyyyeluuuuvyuuuuuuu.”
She’s smiling. “You’re a very happy drunk,” she says.
Head’s swimming … getting … drowsy … Hands feel weird, hard to keep writiiiinnngggg … eyyyyelidzz … heaaaaaveee …