Julia’s Reviews > Orangutan: A Memoir > Status Update

The vodka stopped working days ago.
I scroll through the list of names in my cell phone, looking for a name to hook my attention, someone I can call, someone to come to my rescue, someone to entertain me, someone to take me out of the mess my head and body have become. There is no one left. Not a single person that I have not alienated or scared or disgusted in some way. I am the guy nobody wants to drink with.

I close the bathroom door quietly behind me and try to muffle the noise I make puking so as not to wake Theresa. I'm sick almost every morning by now.

I had reached a point where I said fuck it all to hell. I drank like I have never drank before. But wasn't I always saying that? But it was true: Each time I threw in the towel it got worse. Each new alcoholic onslaught brought with it a new level of debauchery.

Drink is the drunk’s great reward for every accomplishment.

The more I drank, the more money I made. The more money I made, the more I drank. The irony of the situation did not escape me.

I was filled with the great hunger for booze that only a real drunk can compre-hend. There is no beer in the world that tastes better than that first one after a long break.
…as if this were my true lover and we were rushing toward each other again after a long and desperate separation. It's OK, I assured it, you are safe now. I will never leave you again.

"It was the whiskey. I should never drink whiskey. It makes me crazy. I really just need to take it easy, and I will. I promise.
You have nothing to worry about. You just haven't gone out with an Irish guy. We're a little crazy sometimes, that's all. It's all part and parcel of the package. It doesn't make me a bad guy, does it?"