I was at the Catalina Wine Mixer for roughly 10 hours. I was drunk for eight of those hours, and just buzzed for the other two. I mention this because I’m dead certain that my 80% drunk ratio skews near the very bottom of the “drunk people at the Catalina Wine Mixer scale.” Literally everyone else I met was wasted. Staggering. I’ve never seen so many people in one place whose eyes didn’t track when they talked.
That’s not a complaint, mind you. Because no one I met was belligerent. They weren’t rage drunk. They were MISQUOTING STEP BROTHERS LINES AT A MILLION DECIBELS drunk, which is actually pretty fun to be around.
Of all the loudly spoken, typically jumbled lines, one ruled supreme, for obvious reasons.