One can’t quite recall if it was Ernest Hemmingway, Richard Burton or Lee Marvin that described the quintessential drinking experience as: “When you’ve got to hold on to the earth, to prevent yourself falling into the sky.” Either way, it sounds like quite a life-altering incident.
Youth has many benefits — lack of responsibility, admirably weak moral fibre — the most endearing, however, is the ability to imbibe copious amounts of alcohol and arise, a few hours later, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
As one grows older, the liver tends to close shop earlier than usual; the brain is prone to take up the drums, rather than the harp; and the eyes tend to feel they look best in red. All this leads to only one excruciating conclusion: a hangover.
But is there any way for the geriatric dipsomaniac (anyone over the age of 30, fits into this category) to avoid the soul-withering sensation of the morning after? The English believe that a full meal, about an hour before the revelries begin, helps dull the pain. Unfortunately, however, they are referring to super-absorbent foods, an ability curry and rice haven’t quite mastered yet.
So opt for two heavily-buttered slices on bread 30 minutes before you hit the sauce; it not only lines your stomach, but tends to absorb the first salvos with resilience.
Another tried-and-tested rule is to drink a glass of water between each drink. Now this does work, but can you handle looking like a complete tool in front of your friends (remember, they’ll be too hungover the next morning to pay any attention to your gloating)? Also it tends to make trips to the loo rather frequent.
Of course you could just bite the bullet and shout rather uproariously “I’ll cross the hangover bridge when I come to it.” In that case, make sure that you’ve got water (one bottle of), Crocin (one strip of), non-acidic fruit juice (one carton of), by your bedside, and hope that one, or more, of your organs don’t go into Che Guevara mode and revolt.
There is, however, another method of getting rid of a hangover, but it’s frowned upon, in most cases anyway. It’s called the Hair of the Dog, and it’s the same one that bit you last night. A morning after drink does work, but it soon snowballs into a vicious cycle. If you are going to stumble down this perilous avenue then opt for a proper Bloody Mary (chock full of Tabasco, pepper, Worcestershire sauce et al) or a Buck’s Fizz (champagne and orange juice).
Of course if you’ve completely ignored this article’s good advice and are quite willing to be the archetypal masochist, then find solace in these words by Ol’ Blue Eyes, Frank Sinatra: “I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning, that's as good as they're going to feel all day.” And If anyone should know, it’s Frank.
