My friend would sit quietly in the corner and talk to himself when he only drank beer; nicest guy you ever met. A bottle of wine would have him shouting obscenities at passersby for reasons unknown. He might walk naked into the police station after a night of tequila. Once, Jim Beam sent him staggering down Highway 24 to do hand to hand combat with a moving semi-truck. Later he walked away from the altercation on two broken legs, a broken arm and 3 broken ribs. My friend died alone in his apartment last night after 60 days of detox.