The Five Stages of Drinking:

 LEVEL 1:
     It's 11:00pm on a weeknight, and you've had a few beers. You get up
     to leave because you have to work the next morning and one of your
     friends buys another round.  One of your UNEMPLOYED friends. Here
     at Level 1 you think to yourself, "Oh come on, this is silly, why as
     long  as I get seven hours of sleep (snap fingers), I'm cool."

 LEVEL 2:
     It's midnight. You've had a few more beers. You've just spent 20
     minutes arguing AGAINST artificial turf.  You get up to leave again,
     but at Level 2, a little devil appears on your shoulder. And now
     you're thinking, "Hey! I'm out with my friends!   What am I working for
     anyway? These are the good times!  Besides, as long as I get five
     hours sleep (snaps fingers) I'm cool."

 LEVEL 3:
     1:00am:  You've abandoned beer for tequila. You've just spent 20
     minutes arguing FOR artificial turf. And now you're thinking, "Our
     waitress is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." At Level 3, you
     love the world. On the way to the bathroom you buy a drink for the
     stranger at the end of the bar just because you like his/her  face.
     You get drinking fantasies. (Like, "Hey fellas, if  we bought our own
     bar, we could live together forever. We could do it.  Tommy, you could
     cook.")  But at Level 3, that devil is a little bit bigger....and he's
     buying. And you're thinking, "Oh, come on, come  on now. As long as
     I get three hours sleep ... and a complete change of blood (snaps
     fingers), I'm cool."

 LEVEL 4:
     2:00am:. Your little devil is bartending. For last call, you ordered a
     bottle of rum and a Coke.  You ARE artificial turf.  This time on your
     way to the bathroom, you punch the stranger at the end of the bar --
     just because you don't like his face. And now you're thinking, "Our
     busboy is the best-looking man I've ever seen." You and your friends
     decide to leave, right after you get thrown out, and one of you knows
     an ... after-hours bar. And here, at Level 4, you actually think to
     yourself, "Well ... as long as I'm only going to get a few hours sleep
     anyway, I may as well ... STAY UP ALL NIGHT!!!!  Yeah! That'd be
     good for me. I don't mind going to that board meeting looking like Keith
     Richards. Yeah, I'll turn that around, make it work for me. And
     besides, as long as I  get 31 hours sleep tomorrow...cool.

 LEVEL 5:
     5:00am.  After unsuccessfully trying to get your money back at the
     tattoo parlor ("But I don't even know anybody named Ruby!!!"), you
     and your friends wind up across the state line in a bar with guys who
     have been in prison as recently as ... that morning.  It's the kind of
     place where even the devil is going, "Uh, I gotta turn in. I gotta be
     in Hell at nine. I've got that brunch with Hitler, I can't miss that."
     At this point, you're all drinking some kind of thick blue liquor,
     like something from a Klingon wedding. A waitress with fresh stitches
     comes over, and you think to yourself, "Someday I'm gonna marry that
     girl!!" One of your friends stands up and screams, "WE'RE DRIVIN' TO
     FLORIDA!!!!!" and passes out. You crawl outside for air, and then you
     hit the worst part of Level 5  -- the sun. You weren't expecting that
     were you? You never actually do.  You walk out of a bar in daylight,
     and you see people on their way to work, or jogging. And they look at
     you, and they know. And they say...

     "Who's Ruby?"