The One With the Breakup

I started my love affair with Jose Cuervo when I was in middle school. It was the first drink I ever drank, even though I didn't develop my exclusive relationship with it until I was 19. I had a four-year fling with Crown before I dedicated my evenings to tequila. Jose was with me everywhere I went in college. He moved with me to various internships and finally to Dallas, where I had my first job. He never treated me poorly. I always had a good time with him, and I never woke up puking, which I couldn't say for some of my other friends, namely Gin and Vodka.

But I think after last night, I have to admit that it's over between us. It's not like I haven't seen it coming. I haven't spent much time with him since my ulcers got worse after I graduated from college. Because of this, I've been an almost strictly beer girl for years. Last year, when I went home for the Final Four, I spent an entire Saturday throwing up after downing a shot of tequila and several beers. That was the most cruely he's ever treated me.

However, last night, I went to a friend's birthday party. As I walked in the door, everyone was doing these giant tequila shots. Not being one to say no to a good shot, I joined right in. I followed that up with three beers. Yes, three. This wasn't Jose, of course. It was the good, high-quality tequila that we can now afford as working professionals. But the result was the same. I was up for three hours last night, alternating between really hot and really cold and running to the bathroom to purge the poison.

I guess I have to admit that I just can't drink like I used to. My stomach keeps getting worse and just doesn't seem to have much patience for my antics. It's disappointing, though. I'll really miss that Jose.