Congratulations on Tearing Down the Wall!

You drink a lot, but unlike those lazy ass drunks who spend all their time lying around. You’re a drunk with shit to do, and a lot of that shit happens to involve driving around, sometimes while you’ve had a few.

You justify it, because you’ve had a lot of practice and you’re pretty good at it. The scary thing is, you’re mostly right. But just like all the rest of us, sometimes you climb behind the wheel after you’ve had one too many, even by your standards.

This is exactly what’s going to happen after you close the big Henderson account this weekend. You’ll nail the contract and your company will have just become the proud, exclusive supplier fluorescent lights to the largest dog show lighting agency in the Pacific Northwest. You’d be able to drink for a month straight on the commission (we put it this way for your advantage – no one else measures currency in how long they can stay drunk for) and, to celebrate, you and the dude you just closed with will go to the nearest hotel bar and do shots of Jack until you both can barely stand up.

He’ll be way to drunk to drive, but you’ll actually be okay, thanks largely to all that practice of yours. At least, you will be when you enter the car. But you’ll insist on breaking out that “celebratory pint” of Wild Turkey 50/50 you keep in the glove compartment as you drive him home.

Before long the world will start to fade. You’ll lose time briefly, start screaming uncontrollably and that pleasant feeling of euphoria at the base of your skull will turn ugly and start clawing at your brain stem, trying to drag you down.

You’ll stay safe, for the most part, but you’ll end up getting super lost, eventually ending up in the Woodstock district, not far from Reed. Once you realize where you are you’ll become enraged at the be-sandled, self-righteous douchebags populating the area and ram your car into the home of an elderly white supremacist who has taken up residence in the neighborhood, killing him instantly in a deliciously ironic fashion (he was one of those Jim Crow guys who drowned that kid with an engine block back in the day, and your engine block will destroy most of his internal organs).

All the freaks and queers will throw you a parade once the body has been identified and you’ll eventually pass out on the street, having proven that women can drink and drive and hate both extremes of the political spectrum just as well as men.

Then the next day you’ll get a little hair of the dog and drive your heavily damaged Prius home “safely.” So today’s story sort of has a double meaning. Congratulations on tearing down the wall, figuratively and literally!