Satirical guide to drinking limitsfrom @professorpanache

Transcript

When you're drinking worse, there's a specific moment when it stops being a refined evening and starts being, why is my phone brightness so bright? At first, everything is civilized. One glass for warmth, two for appreciation, three for character development. By the fourth, you're wondering if in fact you could open a llama petting zoo in El Salvador. So how do you know you've had enough? First sign, you begin talking to your class intimately. You're the only one who cares. Second sign, your confidence starts rising like it's been given a promotion and a corner office. While your intelligence quietly slips out of the back like it's best remembered the dog has to be with. Then you order a portion of loaded fries and caviar. Third sign, you become the world's foremost authority on everything, politics, relationships, quantum physics, the correct emotional response to a pigeon mating call. All of it suddenly obvious. Fourth sign, you text someone. We won't say who. It's 847 worse. Deep thoughts. Zero punctuation. And the final, most reliable sign, you think one more. You've thought that thought four times. This is your seventh drink. What's your professor? Does the whiskey politely hijacking your personality and trying to extend its visa? Here's the truth, gentlemen. Whiskey is not the problem. The problem is your ego pretending it's immune to gravity and common sense. So the rule is simple. If you have to ask yourself whether you had enough, you have. Full stop. An elegant man doesn't win against worse. He just knows when to smile, stand up slowly, and leave with whatever dignity hasn't already checked out yet.