Brian Lecuyer

Recently, an acquaintance of mine turned 21. This is his story.

8 p.m. – Starts evening with two pints from the well and an appetizer at The Ram.

8:30 p.m. – Goes to another bar, has much more than two drinks.

10:30 p.m. – Still drinking at bar #5, and he has started on straight shots. He has also moved into his professor stage of drinking: coherent, witty, sometimes even insightful. Like this wonderful anecdote, “The reality globalization is that it is a combination of the end of the cold war with post modern sensibilities, and it cannot be derailed, only detained.”

11:30 p.m. – Trips over crack in sidewalk outside of Jim’s Tap. He now says, “I’m still good,” over and over again.

12 a.m. – Starting to drink obscenity-laced named drinks. Speech has become slurred. Still says, “I’m still good,” but sounds as if he says, “I’m ill lood.”

12:20 a.m. – Orders drink that the bartender describes as, “The worst I can give you.” It contains four distinct kinds of hard alcohol, Tabasco and a little mustard. For the first time in his life, my friend cannot finish a drink and says, “I’m still good, but it’s the mustard. I can’t stand mustard!”

12:25 a.m. -Throws up outside of bar

12:26 a.m. -Asks, “Did I just throw up?”

12:27 a.m. -Says, “If I did, it was because of the mustard.”

1 p.m. – Arrives back home, sits with head over toilet stool for 10 minutes.

1:11 a.m. – Comes up for air, says, “I’m still good. It was just the mustard.”

1:12 a.m. – Sits with head over stool, again.

1:30 a.m. – Starts apologizing. Begins with apologizing for having the mustard that made him vomit, ends with apologizing for contributing to the holocaust.

1:45 a.m. – Sobs, lots and lots of sobs.

2 a.m. – Attempts to leave his toilet stool prison. First attempt fails when 10 feet away from bathroom, he stains the carpet with afore mentioned appetizer from the Ram.

2:30 a.m. – This attempt he succeeds. He arrives at his bed, with ice-cream pale tied around his wrist (his roommates learn quickly) and goes to bed.

12:30 p.m. the next day-Wakes up. It is suggested to him he follow the “four no more” creed. He says it was the mustard, and promises never to mix mustard and alcohol again.

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