Drunkards and Peanut Butter

Pardon me, but I feel like taking a moment to point out that I really, really don't like drunk people.

When there was no Jameson to be found on Monday night's liquor run, scotch and (tepid) water became the order of the night. I did things the sensible way, meaning that I had approximately ten sips from Max's glass over the course of an hour.

(It makes the Arabic homework easier.)

Arie did things the stupid way, meaning that he drank three or four glasses on an empty stomach, then became essentially catatonic while sitting up against the headboard on his bed. He only spoke when Max threatened to buy a shawarma* and make him eat it, at which point he moaned, "Nooo... I'm gonn' be wrapped around the toilet sooo faaast..."

I wheedled and begged him to eat a bit of the pita bread I was holding, because it was bland and might have done to soak up a bit of the scotch, but no dice.

Max announced from the doorway, "He doesn't need bread; he needs sodium." He marched across the room, grabbed Arie by the hair, and jammed a spoonful of peanut butter into his slack mouth. Arie sat there, overflowing with peanut butter, and moaned.

"Do you want some water?" Sandra asked helpfully, but he didn't really answer, so she took it upon herself to start pouring water into his mouth on top of the peanut butter he refused to swallow. If I remember correctly, that's about the point when he began to cry. It was the most pathetic thing I've seen in my entire life. Apparently Max thought so, too, because he grabbed Arie by the hair again, smacked him once across the face, and then banged his head against the wall and forced him to make eye contact.

"Now-"

"Uh oh," Arie hiccupped, and Max wisely took his cue to get out of the way as Arie bolted for the bathroom, moving with far less grace than usual, which I hadn't thought to be possible. What followed sounded something like this:

RETCH. GAG. GAG. MOAN. SOB. "...Max? Can I have some water?" MOAN. SOB. RETCH.

I stood in the living room with my ears plugged for most of it and thanked God that He'd convinced me to change my nursing major.

I do not like drunks. In fact, I could easily get used to living in a Muslim country...

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*Shawarma (شاورما‎) is basically Middle Eastern fast food. There are two shawarma shops just across the street from Al-Ballouti, making it a main staple of our diet, and the kind we eat consists of chicken, tahina, and two or three thin bits of pickle, all wrapped up and fried in a slice of taboon bread.

The word 'shawarma' has also replaced adjectives like 'awesome' and 'fantastic', and it's not uncommon to hear one of the guys from room 202 say "Bow-chicka-shawarma!" or "It's shawarma o'clock!"