The story of NY

Overall the trip was a drunken debacle, at least from the perspective of a sober spectator. The reason I am sober is that a key element of "pain to the world" is the elimination of alcohol from my diet. I gotta say, after witnessing the destructive power of alcohol in a magnitude, if not rarely, then seldom seen in the Orifici family, it was honestly easier to not drink than I thought it would be.

This weekend was like the perfect storm for drunken debauchery. Throw the wedding of the last kid in with a mix of new jobs, mounting stress at work, and trips to a location that does not have a wholesome effect on the human psyche. Add the key ingredient of endemic alcoholism, and you have a recipe for finding several people's organs turning into buoys swimming on a sea of gin. Or vodka. Or bourbon. Or all of the above.

The first night involved an ill advised trip to a trendy rooftop bar with the apparently exclusive goal of obliteration, resulting in epic drunken stumbles, a walk of drunken shame, and severe hangovers that lasted well into the next morning. I won't get into the details but in general it was out of control. Admittedly, I did not witness these events firsthand, as I had no suitable clothes to go out in and was safely holed up in the hotel room. All reports i received were second hand from the front or after the fact. Suffice it to say that I did witness the consumption rate at the evening get together before said drinking extravaganza, and that consumption rate would likely be sufficient to hospitalize me. The sum total dose for several members of the family over the course of the evening would mean certain death if I were to ingest it.

The second night turned out to be more mild, but a few cases of overindulgence did occur, whether they be related to expenditures or consumption. Having no interest in drinking or the japanese art of karaoke, I had spent my night searching for good food in solitude, and alas finding none retreated back to the hotel to exercise, relax, and await the impending mayhem. Again, I only saw the back end as people stumbled back to the hotel one by one and speaking in strange tongues or scarfing pizza. Some reportedly or simply disappeared without a trace. Some, after abandoning fallen comrades or other encumbrances, re-emerged to the streets of NY in search of more booze to slake their insatiable thirst.

Now all is done and only tomorrow remains in this accursed place. All parties have returned, worse for the wear but thankfully no acute casualties. I now find myself typing this while listening to deep, cyclic drunken snores and thankful that I reminded Katy to bring my earplugs, else there would be no sleep in store for me tonight.

Unfortunately we are not leaving this hellhole until tomorrow evening. Maybe that will give me enough time to find a shirt that sums it up: I h8 NY.