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This is a true story. The names have been changed in order to ensure their anonymous character, however the accounts of this tale are completely true. This is a tale that takes place in the early summer of the year 2001, in my sophomore year of college at a prominent university in Indiana. I was attending summer school, which meant I was spending even more time away from my girlfriend, who resided in our hometown of Chicago. I had just come back from an exhaustive weekend, in which my girlfriend had promptly broken up with me. Needless to say, my life was not in the most stable condition at this point. I was staying at a friend of mine, whom we will call Brian, who was an artist and was away in France for the summer to paint and enjoy the culture.

It was a Tuesday afternoon, and I had no classes that day. The tumultuous and heartaching weekend behind me and nothing ahead of me, I pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels off the shelf and took a shot. A voice in my head whined that it was only half past noon, but the rest of me did not listen. My girlfriend, whom we will call Susan, and I had a long history together, and the thought that it ended here did not allow my conscious to be heard. But after about two shots, I heard a knock at the door. Having only a few friends left in the small Indiana town, as most of them had gone home for the summer, I wondered who could possibly be knocking at my door. I opened it to find Brian’s girlfriend, whom we will call Laura, at my door, sobbing. I had met both Brian and Laura in a gender studies course the past semester, and knew instantly what was wrong. Apparently, Brian was enjoying much ...

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