Regrettable Tales Of The Drunk
Last night was fun. At least from what I remember.
I woke up this morning believing everything went great. We showed up to the New Year’s Eve party a bit late, but the guest of honor, who happens to have a birthday on the same day, had not yet arrived. We drank a little and mingled with acquaintances before he arrived, then opened up the liquor and drank more beer. Unfortunately, I crossed over to the dark side at some point before midnight.
I’ve never been a heavy drinker. I can’t say the same for my college years, but I can say this — my tolerance is amazingly low these days. That showed last night.
Within a few hours, I had turned into my Dad on a couple bottles of wine… meandering around the party with one eye open, at least from what the lady tells me. I knocked over a few decorations, made an ass out of myself, typical drunken stupidity. I regret getting that sloppy, especially since the lady didn’t really know anyone at this party and had to fend for herself once I was struck down by the whiskey.
I feel terrible. So, one of my resolutions for this year is to never put her in that position again… and never get that drunk again. Ever.