Very interesting! Just out of curiosity, those of you that have had issues with alcohol, did any of you just keep drinking until you passed out? When I drank I was a binge drinker, and once I had my first drink, that would be it! I’d wake up the next day with the mother of all hangovers, often in a pool of vomit, blood, and bile, and even though each time I swore that I’d never touch another drop, the following week-end I’d inevitably disgrace myself again. Irrespective of the company that I was with, colleagues, family, mates, or families of girlfriends I’d still end up making a spectacle of myself despite my best intentions. An ex g/f was from a well-to-do family, and there were at least half a dozen occasions when I’d utterly drink ,myself unto oblivion, despite promises, threats, bribes, and pleadings. It was if once the first mouthful cascaded down my gullet, that I’d be trying to set some new PB for getting train-wrecked in the shortest possible time….the worst one was at a posh restaurant with my g/f and her stuck-up family….because the meal had taken so long to arrive at the table I’d guzzled several bottles of red wine. As the waiter in his tux approached wheeling a big silver trolley with a massive silver dish in the middle I was speculating on the size of the banquet that I was about to unleash myself upon. With a flourish the waiter removed the lid to reveal a tiny plate with ice-cream scoop size servings! I erupted into laughter at the absurdity of the whole spectacle, and once I started I couldn’t stop! The ashen faces around me only made things worse, and eventually a hush fell over the restaurant for the piece de resistance: I vomitted all over the table! It was possibly the most mortifying thing, from an encyclopedia of mortifying events, that I’d ever done. My g/f’s mother very tersely suggested to my g/f’s brother that perhaps some fresh air would do me good, so I was hastily removed from the horror movie that I’d just directed, produced, and starred in! It was terrible. I refused to go back inside, and just waited in the car for a couple of hours until they’d be forced to cast their eyes upon me again. I pretended to be asleep, but it was still a very tense drive away from the debacle. Scarcely a word was exchanged between the horrified family….about a year later I almost outdid that effort by excusing myself from the table and making a beeline towards the ensuite of her brother and new wife’s new house that they were still in the process of moving into….I just got through the door and locked it behind me, but didn’t make it to the loo before Etna erupted! Ye Gods, the spew seemed to cover every square millimetre of floor, wall, and ceiling, and everything in between….eventually my g’f wandered down to see if I was enjoying myself in the spa or something, and I’d only cleaned a fraction of what made Chernobyl look like a spilt glass of milk. She just looked at me, mouth agape, and ordered me to get into the car immediately whilst she conveyed my regrets for having to leave early! I haven’t touched a drop for over 20 years, and have not the slightest inclination to taste the poison again! 😳
Oh, and in case you’re wondering, the poor girl had the good sense to cut me adrift after she had irrefutable proof of my cheating….in my defence, I wrote a few letters over the years profusely apologising for the years that she wasted with me, and sincerely wishing her well with her beaus. She is one of the most beautiful people that I have ever know, and she didn’t deserve my crap 