Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

Tonight I went to happy hour with work people. About 10 minutes into the evening I saw a familiar face walk into the restaurant alone. It was a friend of a friend, Jon, who I've hung out with less that 10 times. I know that he's had problems with alcohol but don't think much of it. I call him over to chat with me and my co-workers. We talk for a few minutes about our mutual friend and when the conversation starts to lull he says something like, "I think I'll head back over to my chair". It seems a little weird but he sits there alone for a while, looking kind of sad, and then I wave to him again when we make eye contact and he comes back over.

After some decent coversation and the addition of loud guitar players at the restaurant, 4 of us (including Jon) decide to go to a quieter place. This quiet place is a fairly upscale restaurant, complete with a well-dressed hostess, black leather stool-chairs, wine bottle-lined walls and $10 drinks.

So the conversation turns to politics and Jon starts getting really belligerent, calling my co-worker an asshole (they'd just met). We all quickly understand that he's far drunker than anyone there (and it's still before 10 PM). During some drunken slur, Jon actually falls off his stool-chair, drink in hand, and makes a huge scene all over this nice restaurant, as he and the chair go flying everywherre. He's just drunk as shit and out of control. It's such an unusual thing to happen at this restaurant that the hostess just starts helping him up, not realizing that he should be booted out of the place.

I try to smooth things over with the co-workers and pay the bill and leave. I try to usher Jon home on the Metro with me but he insists he'll find his own way home. I walk down the street and watch as he walks straight into the nearest bar.

This guy is obviously a serious alcoholic. "Alcoholic" is a term people throw around once in a while but it's not until we are around a real one that we realize what it actually means.