DISCLAIMER:  This is <u>fictional</u> story.  It is an instalment of a series of <u>fictional</i> stories involving 
drug use as a central plot theme.  <i>Reader discretion is advised</i>.  The provision of this story over the Internet, or 
through any other means of communication, is not to be interpreted as a suggestion or recommendation to use drugs.  The 
reader assumes any and all responsibilities derived from his or her actions.


2008 09 07, Buzzed on Alcohol, by George Bookman


     On Saturday morning, around three a.m., I went to a bar with Harleen.  My objective: to get drunk and study the 
effects.

     The bartender was amused that I was not familiar with the protocols of ordering alcohol.  I asked him what sort of 
chaser he had, and he stared at me as though he were confused.  I asked him if he had, for example, orange juice.  He 
replied that he did, but did not go on to name any other substances he had on hand that could be used as effective 
chaser.  He gave me some orange juice with—can you believe it?—ice.

     I asked for four shots of vodka.  The bartender stared at me amused.  He told me he could get me one shot, and see 
how I go from there.

     Harleen had a beer.

     Over the course of the next hour or two (I’m guessing, as I did not time it), I had three shots.  This was 
sufficient to get me buzzed, but not drunk.  The buzz eventually wore off, which gave me the perfect opportunity to 
perform a little test.

     Although I was sober, I still presumably had alcohol in my system.  Would I need to ingest three more shots to again 
feel buzzed, or would fewer suffice?

     I took another shot, which as it turns out was enough to throw me back over the edge into a state of being buzzed.  
I was not <i>as</i> buzzed as I had felt earlier, but nevertheless the test proved affirmative.

     Around sunrise or so, when I was once again ostensibly sober, I had a fifth shot.  This time, it had virtually no 
effect.  We left that morning around eight a.m.

     We slept well into the afternoon.  Late Saturday evening, we went back to the same bar.  This time, I bought myself a 
half-pound medium-rare burger prior to consuming any alcoholic beverages.  It was quite delicious and filling.

     After I finished consuming this burger, I began drinking again.  Over the course of about an hour, I had four shots 
of vodka.  This time, it had virtually no effect on me.  My hands may or may not have been slightly clumsier than usual 
(I can’t be objectively sure either way), but none of the visual distortions appeared to me, nor the feeling of lightness 
in my head, a feeling often associated with alcoholic use.  Without a doubt, the consumption of the burger caused alcohol 
to be absorbed into my bloodstream at a slower rate.


• The above story is entirely fictional. Any similarity to real persons is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. •