Congratulations on Convincing Everyone You Know That You're a Fucking Drunk!

When you show up at work with a freshly made canoe they’ll consider that the first “warning sign.” You’ll respond by shouting “Warning sign of what?! That I’m awesome?!” Then you’ll hurl the canoe through a plate glass window and taking a swig from a hip flask filled with Hawaiian punch. When you catch the horrified expressions on your co-workers’ faces you’ll laugh and pour a little bit of the liquid out shouting “It’s only juice!”

Twenty minutes later your boss will ask if you’d like to go home and clean yourself up, maybe just enjoy a day off. You love time off so you’ll leap to your feet, nodding furiously, and rush out the door, knocking a bunch of shit down while you do so. You’ll grab the canoe on the way out and prop it up in the lobby, attaching a scrawled post-it note to it that reads “Free Too Good Home.” Your boss will be watching you the whole time from his fourth story office, carefully noting the weaving pattern of your step and the erratic way you approach people on the street, knowing nothing of your Tourettes.

When you arrive home your roommates will all be there, clustered around the TV watching Planet Earth on your PS3. They’ll turn and look as you enter, then ignore you as you fade into the kitchen to make yourself a quick “day off drink.” When you come back in, sixteen ounce gin and tonic in hand, and ask them how they’re doing while referring to them as “fuckers” they’ll start to look uncomfortable.

“We’re great, Jack. How are you?”

You’ll shake your head. “Got sent home from work today because they thought I was drunk. Can you believe it?” You’ll laugh an exceptionally crazy laugh because you haven’t been taking your meds. “As if they’d even notice!”

Your roommates will look at one another uncomfortably. They also have trouble discerning when you’re drunk and when you’re just having a bad day, and since they’ve all spent the entirety of a weekday drunk at this point they’ll assume that everyone else’s odd behavior is a product of alcohol.

“You might be,” Kim, the roommate who constantly fakes genuine concern for other people, will say.

You’ll shake your head at her and flip her the bird while you pound your giant gin and tonic. “Would an alcoholic do that?” you’ll scream at them. They’ll nod at one another, having reached the consensus that that is exactly the sort of thing that an alcoholic would do, but you won’t notice. You’ll have flounced off to your room to get ready for book club later tonight.

When you arrive at book club you’ll be really stressed, which will make the Tourettes even worse. You’ll show up in disarray, clutching your juice flask and your copy of Slaughterhouse Five. You’ll be so stressed out that you’ll stand up before the group even gets down to brass tacks and start yowling about how profound you found Vonnegut’s prose and the hope you found in his bleak message, all the while sipping off your juice flask.

This will in turn lead to each of them going around the circle and discussing their alcoholism. When they get back to you it’ll be clear that your entire book group is actually a bunch of people who didn’t want to do AA and decided to cover up their drinking by discussing books that Oprah picked seemingly at random instead. You’ll stammer and back away from your seat.

“I really don’t drink that much,” you’ll say, gathering your things to go. But Mary, the hot member of your book club, will grab you and hold you in place, smoothing your unruly hair.

“Shhh,” she’ll say. “Let me drive you home.”

Since Mary is super hot you’ll let her do it even though you’ll be convinced that she’s a little bit wasted. When you get to your door you’ll squeeze her hand and ask her to keep you from drinking tonight. She’ll smile and say “No promises” before she drops the car into park and gets out with you, stumbling a little on her way to the door.

Congratulations on Convincing Everyone You Know That You’re a Fucking Drunk!