By the time dessert is offered, everybody at the table is drunk except for me and the Nazi. Even Greer has had two glasses of Chablis, which for her is drinking to blackout. I sit there and think how it isn't fair that I can't drink at all, even a little. I realize I have crammed an entire lifetime of moderate drinkinbg into a decade of hard-core drinking and this is why. I blew my wad.
Augusten Burroughs, Dry: A Memoir (223)