By: Matthew Chapman
Christopher Hitchens is dead. Huge loss. I went to school about a mile from where he went to school, we met when I was in my twenties, and then again about six years ago and became friends after sharing 3 or 4 bottles of wine and several whiskeys one lunchtime in New York.
As a once heavy drinker, I could handle all this and was still lucid, but by around 5 o’clock I was beginning to have wild and dangerous thoughts about stumbling off into worse adventures, but cut with the equally appealing idea of going home and crashing out totally.
I went to the bathroom to look in the mirror. It wasn’t that alcohol had affected my sight — I could see my surroundings clearly enough. No, my face was out of focus, the face itself, and there was an insane look in the eyes that did not bode well. Going home was really the only option. READ MORE…