It never ceases to amaze me how the over-consumption of alcohol can cognitively impair even the most intellectual of human beings. My dear friend, Ross, who is currently a second year Actuarial Science student, is testament to why total inebriation should be avoided at all costs. In a span of a couple of hours (while under the influence), he successfully managed to blow R500, half of which was spent on drinks for people he did not know, and would probably never see again. And that was just the beginning of a very drunken (and dangerous) escapade.
Sometime during the night, he got separated from Chris, his ever faithful party-buddy. So, he fished around for his phone, only to discover the screen of death (aka flat battery). The ever responsible Chris (who was also completely smashed) never noticed Ross’s disappearance. Nevertheless, he had enough common sense left over to bum a ride home with other drunkards. Ross, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. He had, during the course of the night, spent all his money on alcohol. With no resources to Call-A-Cab, he mustered up the courage to walk from Claremont (by himself at 1:30am) to a friend’s flat located roughly 20 min. away. After pressing on several intercom buttons and begging random folks to let him into the complex, he eventually managed to hit the right one. But, instead of staying like any rational thinking human being would do, Ross was assaulted by a wave of guilt. He then decided to leave the comfort of the flat and continued walking! With a minimal sense of direction, his feet carried him from Rondebosch, through the windy streets of Mowbray, to Main Road in Observatory. (For the non-Capetonians, Mowbray and Obs are not exactly the safest suburbs to be lost in.)
An hour and a half later (outside McDonald’s), Ross was approached by a hobo, and struck up a conversation that went something along the lines of:
Hobo: “I’m hungry.”
Hobo: “Please give me some food.”
Hobo: “It’s my birthday.”
Ross (digs into his pocket and produces a R20 note): “Ok, I’ll buy you a burger.”
What was wrong with that situation:
Firstly, the conversation with the hobo (or any hobo for that matter) should never have happened, never mind the McDonald’s burger. Secondly, the R20 should have been spent on a taxi, even if it only took him half way home.
Eventually, at 3am, Ross stumbled into his own room – alive, but not so well.