We have a street parlance for when one misbehaves in a drunken state. We'd say, "shayo na bastard" because the tendency to misbehave after getting drunk is on the exponential side of things. As in, getting drunk and getting high has a way of ripping apart the conscience that holds one back from doing that obviously silly idea that has crossed one's mind on a couple of occasions.
As a regular dude with friends who enjoy the taste of alcohol, it's safe to say I have been drunk and wasted on a couple of occasions. Did I enjoy the sensation? Hell, no. It can be remarkably punishing. But then one would wonder why we do it again despite the tendency for absolute pain after getting drunk and hung over. Well, things we do to ourselves in the name of fun, eh.
For each bout of drunkenness, one is almost certain to make a misstep. So I've had a couple crazy deeds due to being in a drunken state. However, the one I will share was when I did what I actually don't like to do based on personal preference.
During my internship, I stumbled upon a leaflet in a petroleum depot describing the dangerous effects of smoking cigarettes and the harmful chemicals the pleasure-giver is laced with. As a student of chemistry, I know how bad it can get when these chemicals accumulate in the body. That's one of the major reasons why I stayed completely away from smoking.
Now, a lot of the dudes I was with back then smoked on a regular basis and weren't always cool with the fact that I'm always the odd one out. They tried as much as possible to talk me into lighting a cigar but I never budged until one day when alcohol took over. This particular day I had way too much liquor that I could barely hold my shit together. With a little teasing from my dudes, I lost it. I lit a cigarette and didn't stop until after the 15th stick. It felt good and bad at the same time.
When I woke up the next morning I was in severe pain. My lips were in such a terrible shape that it felt like a fire was lit on it. I hated myself not only for doing what I've always avoided, but also for overdoing it. Despite that, I understand that getting drunk and misbehaving are two entities that go hand-in-hand.
Ever since, I drastically cut down on alcohol consumption. I told myself that if I could do what I never loved to do to such an alarming extent after taking too much of alcohol, who knows what embarrassing thing I may be capable of doing with some more alcohol and cheering on from my crazy dudes?
As an experience, there is nothing interesting about it that will make me want to try it again. I only exposed myself to pain and punishment for doing it. Besides the painful lips, I felt like my lips went darker in complexion for months due to it. If that was actually true or a figment of my imagination from the trauma, I can't really say. But I know it took me close to a year to feel like my lips got back to normalcy. So why would I want to try again what gave me such trauma?
