Have a friend with the same predisposition towards self-constructed disgrace, and with similar triggers. He ended up with a gift of scotch, from one of his old friends who either couldn’t remember or never knew.
No possibility of measured sippage.
Gone within a day or two, as nearly was he.
I don’t even try to test a social drinking context. No point. Two many past reinforcers of incapacity.
Yet some masquerade, with exceptionally positive social times…some regrettable blinders.
Could have been me on the floor. Hopefully the final floor scene for him.
And not because he can’t get up again.