Mr. Alonza lifted open his eyes after a recreational night of imbibing, the assortment of black lashes fluttering over his pupils.

A tablespoon of apple cider vinegar pierced through his veins like the sporadic memories from the previous evening clouding his conscious with self-doubt and regret: an awkward and unsuccessful courtship attempt when Tonya Herlowitz out to dinner and a movie, reaching unwanted paws into an opaque bin of orange slices multiple times along the bar rail or darting across an intersection without his party.

The obligatory misapplication of hangover cures follows out of desperation, all in the name of avoiding a projectile encounter.

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