Oh gawd, I have always relied upon the kindness of strangers.
Particularly, the poor people who work at the McDonald's inside the Fitzgerald's. How many times did I stumble in here in my teens to drunkenly eat chicken nuggets and then pass out in the back booth? More often than I should have done, that's for fucking sure. I recently had a complete and total flashback - ended up taking a quick nap, and then sobering up on black coffee with a shot of hazelnut syrup.
They must see everything. And they never judge me.
Thank you, McDonald's at the Fitzgeralds, your coffee and greasy fast food makes me sober enough to drive home.