We went to a bar after the club. I didn’t want to get drunk, and I managed to stay sober at first, but then I ended up getting drunk. It was near the end, and I can’t quite remember what happened, but I noticed the president and the moderator signalling to each other that someone should put me in a cab. I became so ashamed of this faint memory, and I got the feeling they hated me.
Psychiatrist: Maybe they were simply concerned for you?
Me: What?
Psychiatrist: Well, when one has a friend who’s very drunk, one calls a cab for the friend so they can get home safely.