Everyone should know their alcohol limit. You’re not born with this ability, but you can learn through trial and error… Emphasis on error. Perfect example was how I learned my limit my freshman year of college. It was just another Tuesday in my pint-sized dorm room in Albany Park, Chicago. I was doing what I usually do on school nights: Playing NBA 2k waiting for my roommate to wake up from his after school nap to play more NBA 2k. It was getting late so I took a little stroll to the neighborhood family-owned liquor store. Good thing about these types of liquor stores is due to their lack of size and customer traffic, they stay open later, and will sell alcohol to whoever has the money. Perfect establishment for underagers looking to get faded like a T.I. haircut. Because it was a school night I went the safe route and bought a six pack of Miller High Life. By the time I got back to the dorm my roommate was awake. NBA 2k commenced. My roommate at the time wasn’t a drinker, so… More beer for me. 1 beer, 2 beers, 3 beers, 4. We played 2 games and I won both. Celebrating each victory by chugging beers like Stone Cold Steve Austin. Suddenly I ran out of beers. The panic set in. These beers were making me play better, and I was all out of stock. The good news was the liquor store was still open. At this point I was drunk, but I wasn’t “DRUNK” drunk, or “White girl wasted” if you will. I walked around the corner and bought another 6 pack of Miller High Life. I arrived back at the dorm 19 minutes later ready for another 2k battle. 7 beers, 8 beers, 9 beers, 10 beers, 11 bee… Doh shit. I looked at the screen and I was losing the game by 50 points. I freaked out. Ok, I started weeping. This quickly became the most serious game of 2k I had ever played. The final score was 146-43. I walked over to my desk and put my head down to think about my dismal performance. My roommate was laughing in my face like an evil hyena, saying I was ugly and couldn’t read, etc. I put on my noise-canceling headphones to block out the humiliation. I didn’t even plug them into anything, or so I thought. After I gathered my thoughts and calmed myself, it was time to shake his hand and be a good sportsman. I attempted to stand up, but somehow the cord to my headphones got stuck in my draws, causing me to lose my balance, fall, and knock everything that was on my desk to the floor. I was laid out face down on the floor with my laptop, change jar, headphones, homework, self-respect, etc. all on the floor next to me. Only thing missing was a chalk outline, caution tape, and Dexter analyzing the crime scene. I couldn’t get up. All I remember was yelling out “I’m sinking! I’m sinking!” while my roommate was curled up like a fried shrimp in the fetal position laughing. He helped me up, and of course I had to vomit due to all of the turbulence. I made it to the bathroom in time and did my business. When I came back in the room I was hell-bent on getting the taste of vomit and High Life out of my mouth. I grabbed my roommates toothpaste and squeezed a large amount into my mouth. My roommate slapped the bottle out of my hand. Not because he was stingy with his dental hygiene products, but because I didn’t squeeze his toothpaste in my mouth. I squeezed his face wash cream into my mouth. That’s the last thing I remember from the evening. The good news is since then I haven’t exceeded my 10 beers per night limit, and I never plan on doing so. Know what your limits are, and that friends don’t let friends eat face wash.