Waking up to a wardrobe speckled with red wine stains was the first clue my relationship with alcohol had changed. For years, a room full of shouting, lurching people was my idea of a perfect night out, a ritual enjoyed multiple times a week with a like-minded circle of friends. Now, having cut back significantly, I find the company of intoxicated adults close to unbearable.
The Sobering Shift in Perspective
I must have been incredibly annoying in my drinking days, because the cacophony and chaos I once reveled in now feels excruciating. While I'll always help a drunken teenager navigate their first brushes with booze, I'm done with wine-stained clothes and propping up grown adults. The veteran New York bartender Dale deGroff once told me his method: an 'instant 86' – American slang for throwing someone out – for public urination, brandishing a weapon, or threatening women. Otherwise, he relied on peer pressure. "When someone’s being a jerk," he said, "everyone knows they’re being a jerk and their friends will take care of it."
And that's the core issue for those of us who are sober. The obscenely drunk person ceases to be their friends' problem and becomes yours. I've wasted too many precious nights shepherding friends with terrible red wine teeth from trouble to their beds, wanting to scream: "That's not fun, it's alcohol poisoning." I'm no puritan—it takes one to know one—but I've had enough. There's a world of difference between being merry and being a pitiful adult tipping to the point of collapse.
The Nine-Stage Descent into Drunken Chaos
Based on painful experience, here are the nine stages of a night out that will have any sober observer counting the minutes until home time.
Stage One: Sculling Drinks
The night begins with someone boasting about going from "0 to 60 in one drink"—often a massive vodka on the rocks. This aggressive start ensures sobriety departs immediately. While the drinker may feel charming, the forced haste makes everyone else uncomfortable as they try to ease gently into the evening.
Stage Two: The Lean In
Conversation shifts from a polite game of ping-pong to a one-sided game of squash. Every comment is interrupted and hijacked. The drunk leans in, their voice so loud it seems to dislodge earwax. Asking them to lower their volume brings accusations of being boring or even louder denials. This is the moment to avoid all debates on politics or global conflict.
Stage Three: Paranoia
A boast or a deep-seated insecurity now takes centre stage, looping endlessly. Whether it's demanding affirmation about their appearance or fixating on a workplace slight, no sober solution—no matter how Oprah-grade—will break the cycle. The frustration may lead you to suggest absurd remedies, like throwing dog poo at their boss's window.
Stage Four: The Clowny Wine Smile
Physical decay sets in. Teeth are stained burgundy, a thin, fixed "clowny wine smile" appears, and clothing gains new stains. Eyes glaze over, and sweaty dishevelment is compounded by wild gesticulations that inevitably send a glass of red flying onto the nearest person in white.
Stage Five: Animal Noise
Speech devolves into animalistic pitch—bellowing like a bull seal, shrieking like a fox, or braying like a donkey. Some men actively attempt animal impressions. The content of what they're saying becomes irrelevant; all that registers is the noise. Their laughter is constant but never in response to anything genuinely funny.
Stage Six: The Lecherous Lean In
Repetition is constant and emotions fracture. If upset, they will follow you all night. I once drove a very drunk German lingerie model home, who thanked me by gravely stating, "You are a very ugly woman." This stage often brings inappropriate advances, with drunks pawing and breathing rancid fumes while declaring they feel "horny." This is legally harassment, and no one should have to tolerate it.
Stage Seven: Emotional Mess
Here, people enter full meltdown. They may confront you over forgotten slights, often related to your earlier attempts to escape their company. Crying and catastrophising are preferable, as verbal or physical violence is terrifying. With half of all manslaughter cases involving alcohol, comforting a weeper starts to feel like a luxury.
Stage Eight: Physical Mess
The brain-to-limb connection fails. Dancing becomes a public hazard. It's time for stumbling into buffets, colliding with waiters, or falling off a stage and breaking an arm. At a minimum, someone will miss a chair and bruise their bottom. This should signal home time, but first comes the lost property saga—bags, keys, phones—leading to weeping, rage, or misguided attempts to walk.
Stage Nine: Dead Alligator Slumber
The final stage: a sudden, deep sleep that overcomes the journey home. Think of the suited figures slumped like dead alligators in shop doorways. I once found a man in just a thin jacket asleep on a street in Vladivostok, Russia, at -20°C. The hotel concierge merely shrugged and said, "Vodka." It's a pitiful, dangerous, and entirely avoidable end to the night.
