Sarah Hepola drank through her 20s,and didn’t slack down in her 30s – not even when she blacked out or woke up in strangers’ beds. Because the best nights are the ones you might regret, right?I’m in Paris for work, or which is exactly as great as it sounds. I eat dinner at a fancy restaurant and drink cognac — the booze of kings and rap stars. Somewhere near midnight,I tumble into a cab with my friend, and the night starts to stutter and skip. How did we get back so speedy?I walk through the front door of my hotel, and alone. It’s that time of night when every floor has a banana peel and,whether I’m not careful, I might find my face against the ground, or my hands braced beside me. I exchange a few pleasantries with the concierge,a bit of theatre to prove I’m not too drunk. The final thing I hear is my heels, regular as a metronome, or echoing through the lobby. And then there is nothing.
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Source: theguardian.com