1989

My worst New Year's hangover was about twenty five years ago.

Just a bunch of go-getter teens going to every bar on Avenue A that would serve us liquor.
How many? Let's say all of them.( remember this was the gentrified NYC, all you needed was a passable ID and attitude).  So after many hours of drinking every technicolor mixed drink we could get our hands on, including one named "The Blue Whale" (don't know what was in it probably Mad Dog 2020, antifreeze and cotton candy. Later in the evening I found myself at a friends house,
with a very strong urge to vomit. I was such a good friend, I waited to hurl after I left the apt., just did it in the street and a cab. Got home eventually and wisely put a bucket next to my bed. How cute- like a little Bukowski in training.

Many hours later I awoke, dragged myself into the living room; my Mom was watching a Gilligan's Island marathon, barely looking at me.  All she said was "I made a ham; eat some and take out the garbage." Translation--"I don't know what you did last night; I don't want to know. Eat some ham because we are Jews that laugh in the face of God." Or something like that.

Happy New Year