The Popcorn Shakes
2003-01-11 - 10:20 a.m.
For me, I think �rock bottom� was just this morning when I woke up and my mouth--like usual--was unbelievably dry. Not only dry but also sour. My stomach felt awful and weird, too--hungry, and yet slightly upset from the abuse of a certain substance. And I had a funny kind of headache.
But I hadn�t had a drop of alcohol the night before.
I did have a hangover, though. The kind that�s so shameful I�m too embarrassed to talk about.
I, my friends, had a movie popcorn hangover.
Last night, El Jefe and I saw �Adaptation,� and I, of course, automatically ordered popcorn when we walked in the door. Even though we had just been out to dinner and I was full as a tic.
I seem to be incapable of going to the movies without buying popcorn; if I try to go without, I�m completely Pavlovian in the theatre, drooling at the guy next to mine�s big box of yellow delight. And then I break down and run back into the lobby to get my own.
Once I do get it, I eat it like I�ve been starved for six months, shoving whole fistfuls in my mouth. That slimy, synthetic, artery-clogging liquid that is in no way related to real butter is, to me, the nectar of the gods.
But, boy oh boy do I pay for it the next day.
Just when I thought I�d reached an age where I�d stopped doing mean things to my body, I go and discover a new way to get hungover. Remember: friends don�t let friends drive home after they�ve gorged themselves on Karasotes corn.