How Drunk Were You?

To quote every freshman in the history of ever: “I
was SOOOO drunk!” Problem is, there is no
objectivity to this claim. There are no gold
medals and no Jeopardy champions in the game of
Drunk. So how close can we ever come to explaining
this phenomenon of the lampshade-wearing,
sexual-favor giving, arrested-getting inebriate?

Simple: a comparison in five easy stages. Follow
along if you’re stage 3 or below.

Get your buzz on — 1 to 3 drinks

Congratulations, you’re just like a: British

Every now and then, you’re speaking so quickly
that your words run together a little bit. You
start saying uncharacteristic things like “thanks
love.” (Note: you do not start addressing people
as “queen” until roughly stage 3, when a fight is
forthcoming) For reasons passing explanation, you
start talking at length about politics and
culture. You start to think that maybe bad teeth
aren’t that big a deal.

Feelin’ no pain, or tact — 4 to 5 drinks

Congratulations, you’re just like a: Sex offender
on probation

You’re compelled to go around the area and
introduce yourself to everyone. You’re chatting
with girls/boys, but still cautious about groping.
You want to lure that special someone back to your
van, but probably shouldn’t. Damned if you’re not
trying to ignore the demon voices in your head
that tell you to do the things.

Faded — 6 to 9 drinks
Congratulations, you’re just like an:
Eighty-year-old Handicapped billionaire in a strip

You no longer feel the need to impress people or
act charming. Wild rounds of boasting are followed
by inappropriate sexual advances. “Heavy” girls
become “busty.” Motor control is spotty at best.
You can’t even remember when you had bladder
control. Special Bonus: After drink no. 8, you’re
confined to a chair for the foreseeable future.

Doin’ a little side-to-side shuffle-dance — 10 to
14 drinks

Congratulations, you’re just like: Michael J. Fox

You shake and squirm quite a bit, but maintain a
huge smile on your face. Sentences are tough to
form, and are accompanied by wild gesticulations
to help make the point. People are always telling
you how brave you are, but in your case, it’s
because you took a swing at a cop and took off into
the neighbor’s backyard.

You look like a hobo’s jockstrap — 15 drinks and

Congratulations, you’re just like a: Celtic Druid,
circa 1000 B.C.

You’re not speaking anything that sounds remotely
like English. You smell bad and regularly forage
for food. When presented with a simple technology
like a cell phone, you futilely poke at it and
wonder exactly where inside it the sun and planets
are hiding. You wake up in the morning to find an
animal chewing/humping on you. You have the plague.