I’m standing (not now, of course, but the present tense seems most appropriate) in front of the alcohol. The booze section of the local grocery store. All sorts of beer behind and semi-fancy wine in front of me. My attempt at exuding an air of mercurial personality is failing. Deep down, I’m still me and am befuddled by alcohol. I can imagine myself picking up a bottle of MD 20/20 and popping the cap and drinking it there in the aisle, but what would that prove? The only warmth the alcohol could bring is that of confirmation: I’m seeing myself more and more as a failure, and thus I have accepted my status in life. I attempted to fill this chasm in my heart…