One Friday night at the watering hole there were perhaps fifteen or twenty of us from the junk mail company. Sometime between eight and nine o'clock I became restless and decided to head for home.
Hearing me ask for my tab, the Link Monster got on my case about leaving so early, calling me all kinds of wimp, although in less delicate terms.
He was a beer drinker and I'd been drinking my usual, Bourbon Manhattans. This is high octane stuff. I eyed him for a moment, walked to an empty table, sat down, and motioned him over. He came and sat down opposite me.
Curious as to what was going on, a friend we'll call Bonch came over with his drink and sat down with us. Bonch and Link shared a house, so this was going to work out well. Link had a gleam in his eye, not knowing what was going to happen, but sure it would be fun.
The waitress came over and I ordered two Bourbon Manhattans, straight up. A moment later she brought them and as she set them down Link, who had never tasted one, looked at me and asked "Do we slam these or what?"
Perfecto! "Of course."
As the waitress turned to leave, I touched her arm and indicated that she should stay. Link and I slammed our drinks and I told the waitress "Two more."
She looked at me with some concern, and I reached into my pocket, pulled out the car keys, and gave them to Bonch. I looked expectantly at Link until he did the same. Satisfied, the waitress went to fetch two more. Bonch was grinning from ear to ear.
The drinks arrived, we slammed them, and I said "Two more." The waitress sighed and went off to order them.
While we waited, Link said "I have to go to the men's room." Up he got and off he went.
Bonch: "I think you've got him."
Donnie: "Why do you say that?"
Bonch: "Because he went like this." Bonch picked up a cocktail napkin and dabbed delicately at the corners of his mouth.
The drinks arrived, but there was no Link. After a few minutes Bonch and I got up to go check the men's room.
We went out the front door and saw Link sitting on a wrought iron bench, head between his knees and a puddle of vomit between his feet.
Bonch: "You alright, Link?"
Link Monster: "Fuckin' Richards."
That finished the night, of course. I went in and finally got to pay my tab, and Bonch drove us home, taking my car, with Link passed out in the back seat. Bonch said he'd pick me up in the morning.
The next morning, at about the appropriate hour, there was no sign of Bonch and Link. I called, got their answering machine, and began shouting "GET UP! GET UP! GET UP!"
Bonch picked up the phone and said he was about to leave, but "I don't think Link is going to make it."
On the way to work he filled me in. He'd had to half carry Link into the house and up to his bed. Having accomplished that, he went downstairs to get a bucket or something for Link in case he had to upchuck, and while he was down there he heard a thump. When he got back upstairs, he found that Link had rolled off the bed.
He then had to go back out to the car and clean up the back seat, where Link had orally disposed of some beer and some bourbon.
Apparently, Link woke up around six P.M. thinking it was six A.M. and called his boss to leave a message. She answered and he told her "I don't think I'll be in today."