It’s Synchronised Transferred Alcohol-Induced Rage Syndrome. It’s why no one ever wants to go to bars with me.
I sit down, I drink rum, I start getting under the impression that I’m charming. Of course, although my rants on my blog about Vagina Day, Asian squid porn and flappophobia is somewhat endearing, when I’m drunk and gushing about it at 2 am, people don’t seem to “get it”. The next stage involves completely unjustified and unprovoked anger attacks aimed at really, really large men named Leo.
ESSIE: “Yo, you...Leo! Leo...you suck man...you fackin’ suck...”
LEO: “Go away.”
ESSIE: “Mmm...no.” (shakes head more than necessary) “My friend...my friend shaysh...he gonna kick your assh...”
LEO: “Did you just steal my tequila?"
ESSIE (calling): “Yo! Yo, Steve? Steve! Kick this guys’ assh! Kick it!”
STEVE (pretends not to know me)
ESSIE: “Yeah, now you gonna get it...”
If there are any other sufferers out there, please contact me. We need to decide what color our ribbon is going to be. (Apparently orange has already been taken by those Alzheimer assholes, but they won’t remember that. I vote orange.)
