I stared from my empty glass to the empty bottle. I craved, at the very least, another mouth full. But a constant buzzing in my ears held me back. Despite this, I felt parched. Who would have imagined that someday 180 ml of Old Monk would not suffice? I poured myself a glass of water and felt a whirlpool around me. Maybe it was enough, actually. I gulped the water down and drank another glass before going to bed. I stumbled back to my bed to find that it was way past one. I would never wake up for 8 am office.
“I had gone to bed drunk and the hangover was mind numbing. Again. On such days, there was no time for a bath. I packed some Mac and cheese to eat at my desk, changed clothes and rushed out. I spent the day being groggy and unproductive. I was back at the wine shop that evening. Hangover, nausea, all forgotten. The shop keeper exchanged some chit-chat as he handed over the bottle. It struck me in that moment that I had a problem. I pressured him to take the bottle back and walked home to clear my head. I knew I needed help. I have abstained for four days. Actually, today is the fourth day. I just stay far away from any wine shops,” I said.
“We are all here for the same reason. Welcome to alcoholics anonymous,” said a smug looking elderly man.
“So, who’s next?”