The Way I Drank

It was clumsy like trying to discretely catch your own vomit. You know it always makes a horrid mess and those 'knowing' looks are because they know that's puke on your blouse and crusted in the creases of your $5.00 shoes.

This is how I drank.

I was a hand-over-fist, chug-a-lug, fuck the glass! give me the bottle! kind of drunk. My only annoyance or inconvenience was the time it took to black out or the awkward moment when I came to cold, shivering on a dewey lawn in a neighborhood I wasn't familiar with. I learned from experience that walking in a straight line in any direction eventually led to a road or a phone and a cab can solve most of those sorts of sorting out details.

A cab could take me here, there, or home...wherever...there'd be a drink waiting and time to numb.