Jack woke, his eyes opening gradually and viewing his strange surroundings. The table in front him was strewn and wrecked, glasses had been broken and the candelabra was laying down with one limb broken off. Wax had spread out on the table as it fell, and mingled with the various food and drink which had been spilled.

“Agh,” he groaned as he tried to sit up before he could stand. His head throbbed from the dehydration headache and he felt mildly nauseous as well. He goaned with the effort, each degree he tilted his head caused him more agony, but he had to get home.

Jack had no idea how he had gotten here, nor did he remember much about the previous evening. He had gone to the party with Nolan, but after they had a couple drinks, his memory got fuzzy. In celebrating their victory, the entire town was partying and drinking, and people lay here and there in the room where Jack had woken.

He began to painfully walk outside when his eye spotted a silver pitcher on the table. On inspection, it contained water, and he drank deeply to satiate his thirst. He pushed aside the wooden door and was dazzled by the sunlight as he stepped out into the open air. His head throbbed and his eyes ached, but he was able to determine where he ended up after the events of the previous night.

“Hey! How was it?” He heard a voice call to him.

He turned toward the stranger and inquired “Do I know you?” The man looked back, slightly taken aback.

“You told me last night that you were going to try eating a snail.”

“Uhh…” the thought of that made his stomach turn and he vomited in the grass. “I don’t remember any of that.”

“Not surprised. You seemed pretty drunk when you talked to me.”

“Yeah, clearly.” Jack turned away and began to make his slow progression toward his own house, stopping periodically to regain his balance or to wait for the nausea to pass before continuing. He fumbled around, forgetting most of the streets which he needed to take in his way home and getting hopelessly lost a time or two.

Vainly, he swore off alcohol for the rest of his life, fully knowing that his embargo of that tempting liquid would not last more than a month. If only his resolve would live longer than his hangover.

As long last, he arrived at his front door. He swung it open and entered, intent on collapsing into his bed and sleeping for the remainder of the year, but his journey of self-discovery was not over yet. Laying in his bed, naked and fully asleep, was a strange woman.

“Woah,” he muttered to himself, but loud enough to wake her. She began to stir as he clumsily attempted to retreat, drawing more attention to himself rather than slipping away. In a last-ditch effort to remain unseen, he froze in place, hoping she would not look in his direction. She did.

“That was amazing,” she said, a sultry smile crossing her lips, “what else do you have planned for us?”

“Uhh…” Jack stammered, unsure of how he should reply. “What would you like to do?”

“I have a few ideas,” she replied, “but we should get breakfast first.”

Afraid of what may happen if he revealed that he did not know her, he just rolled with the punches and began what would end up being the start of a lifelong relationship. He made it a rule to never drink himself into oblivion again.