When You’re Drunk-Hungry
The term “drunk-hungry” refers to the level of inebriation at which a delicate young woman seeks out greasy fast-food that she would never be caught dead eating sober. It’s a special kind of hungry that even the most dedicated dieter can’t rise above. I’m talking about the 5 am, desperately Yelp-ing a 24-hour diner or pizza place, stumbling up and down the streets in search of a hot dog or halal stand that will accept your debit card kind of drunk-hungry — which more often than not results in gyro sauce dripping down your face and onto your dress as you soldier on toward your train home. Your mouth (in addition to your outfit) can incur battle wounds when you’re drunk-hungry. That steaming hot slice of pizza will seem totally manageable until you try to take a bite of it, singeing your entire mouth and causing you to drop that melted cheese onto your (hopefully) cheap stilettos.
You may become argumentative when you’re drunk-hungry, specifically towards the man behind the pizza counter in response to his lack of garlic knots. You might try to make this man understand that he has all of the necessary ingredients to make garlic knots, and insist that if he would just let you into the kitchen, you could make garlic knots for everyone, including him. Why is he being so unreasonable? All you would need is some dough and garlic. If you can tie a knot, you can make a garlic knot. Who hired this guy?!
If you’re having food delivered to your apartment, being drunk-hungry can cause extreme paranoia. You may feel the need to drunk-dial the 24-hour food establishment multiple times within the 35-minute delivery estimate just to ensure that your food is actually en route. You might also be compelled to profess your love to whoever answers the phone at said food establishment once he tells you that they are, in fact, still delivering, and that your meal selection does happen to come with fries. You may accidentally order an insane amount of food that could feasibly feed your entire apartment complex, and thus be compelled to knock on your neighbor’s door and share. They might not be hungry, or amused.
Being drunk-hungry might lure you into a less recognized option for late-night eating: a 24-hour pharmacy. Since you can use your debit card here, you will feel compelled to buy every snack you see, especially if you’re far from home and need to survive a long, drunken train ride. You will double and triple guess your snack selection, overwhelmed by all of the possibilities. It may take you a full 20 minutes to decide what junk-food will be keeping you company on your way home. You might feel the cashier judging you as you proceed to charge $3.98 to your debit card (Note: the cashier is actually, totally judging you).
On some rare but blessed occasions, a group of young men leaving the bar at the same time as you may overhear your frantic Google search for a 24-hour anything, and offer to lead you to the promised land of late-night greasy food that they are headed to. This is not only a genius pick-up tactic, but also a gift from the powers that be. You should follow these men in virtually all cases, even if you would never entertain their conversation sober in the daylight — even if eating food that is not lettuce in front of someone of the opposite sex is kind of terrifying to you (note: if you can’t actually bring yourself to do it, you’re probably just hungry, not drunk-hungry). The exception to this rule is when said group of gentlemen claim to have food at their apartment, which just so happens to be located right in the area. They are lying. Who “just happens” to have all of the necessary ingredients to make burgers lying around their apartment at four a.m.? Serial killers, that’s who.
Keep in mind that the most successful nights out will result in being drunk-hungry. If you’ve partied your face off, drank till your heart’s content, and danced until your feet hurt so badly that you hobble out of the bar just as the sun is rising, then you completely deserve whatever fried, cheesy, deliciously “bad” food your stomach desires.
If you’ve been looking for a chance to say something then this very well could be it.
I wish to God I’d had a list like this when I was 23.
Answer phones better than anyone else has answered phones before. Relay messages so brilliant, they bring people to tears. Turn the coffee run into the choreography of Swan Lake. Become best friends with every intern and every underling and every taxi driver you encounter.
By Ella Ceron
I remember taking the pen and notebook from that woman outside the courtroom, flipping to a clean page in the book, and writing, JESSICA IS SAD in big, bold, uncoordinated letters. “My sister is going to be a good writer someday! Look at how nice her lines are!”