I dunno about that. I’m thinking of one guy I knew who was a real party animal, life of the party, tellin’ dirty jokes and buyin’ rounds kind of guy when he was drunk. Fun guy, you know?
…except about every tenth time he got drunk.
The tenth time… he’d get moody. He’d get morose. And as he got drunker, he’d start to seethe.
We learned quickly that when Rusty got all quiet after the fourth or fifth drink, it was time to get him the hell out of public airspace and someplace private, pronto. Because by the tenth or twelfth drink, he was either going to tell someone exactly what he thought of them, to their face, or he was going to ignore the preliminaries altogether and simply deck somebody, out of the blue, no warning whatsoever.
I really don’t think that this was the “real” Rusty.
The theory also doesn’t explain something people have noticed about ME – the fact that around the fifth drink, I begin speaking like a stage Texan.
I am a Texan, born and raised, but normally, I speak with very little regional accent whatsoever. People have told me I could be a newscaster in any of the fifty states. But when I drink, I very suddenly go from “no accent” to “sounds like I’m trying out for a role in a bad Western movie.”
No way am I going to believe that the “real me” is channeling Fess Parker, here…