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"Huh? What the hell? Where am I? What is going on?"
Disheveled, inebriated, and somewhat clueless, a man finds himself upside down behind an industrial sized garbage can in a dirty alleyway right behind his favorite bar in the city. He was awakened by some neighborhood rats crawling on his torso, searching for their nightly dinner, hoping they could get some pieces of scraps left behind by the drunk patrons of the night.
"Ew... Get the hell out of here you filthy rat." The man in the suit yelled in a mood of disgust.
He tried to gain his bearings and quickly asses the situation he was in; where he was and how the hell it was he ended up upside down behind a garbage can in an alley with nothing but the neighborhood rats greeting him. But, as quickly as he tried to get up, he ended up falling back down to the ground out of dizziness and confusion.
"Okay..." He murmured to himself. "Get up, Joe. One, two, three." He said as he slowly began to lift himself up off the ground. This time he did it successfully. Still confused and in a daze, unaware about the events that happened that night, he went into his pocket to search for his wallet. He moved his hands up and down his pants pockets, hoping to feel his wallet bulging in his pants, but to his dismay, there was nothing there.
"Shit!" He yelled. "Where the hell is my wallet?" As he walked out of the alleyway and back towards the front entrance of the bar, he looked to see if he could locate it. To no avail, he could not. Also, he noticed that his car keys were missing.
"No! Not my car keys too! What the f***? Did someone rob me?" The man in the suit got more and more aggressive with his speech and started kicking, screaming, and carrying on as if he were a child throwing a tantrum. Well, he found himself kicking one too many times to the point he collapsed right back down on the ground.
The man couldn't do anything but sit and reconsider everything in his life up to that point. Dazed and confused still, he tried to recall the events of the night. He couldn't remember specific faces, names or events, but what he could remember was the source of his inebriated state: a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey.
You see, this man, though dashing with a very cut figure and a highly intelligent disposition about himself, was very much an intolerable functional alcoholic. He vowed to never get married to a woman after his ex-wife left him near destitute in his divorce battle. So the only comfort he could find in anything of the feminine variety is pressing his lips on a chilled glass, kissing the Amber devil herself: whiskey. His one and only true love. So beautiful, so rich, and oh so smooth. There was no one who took him to ecstacy more than the Amber devil. Once they danced together, there was no way he could break free from her ruthless grasp. Ever.