While I knew that I had more than my fair share of Champagne, my wherewithal was negligible, making it impossible for me to point and say that drink was when I went from dinner-party tipsy to spectacularly drunk. However, I remember the blurry contours of mandolin shaped bottles, and the rush of aggravation hitting me, gut-kicked like, coming at me all at once…
Both a think piece as well as a reflection on NYC drinking culture, I contributed this essay to the sprawling Narrative.ly magazine. Pulling from my memories and literary ambitions, I cobbled together the events from a particularly addled evening, pouring forth my thoughts and reminisces, as it were. The essay would serve as a dark reminder that the underside of drinking, however cathartic, was now open and shared with the public.
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This text was first published at Narrative.ly.com, an online magazine. The essay appears halfway down the page.