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Five Levels of A Night At Sharkey’s

LEVEL 1
It’s 11:00 on a weeknight. You’ve had a few beers. You’re getting up to leave, because you’re booked onto the Fat Cat cruise the next day, when one of your friends offers to buy another round. One of your UNEMPLOYED friends. Here, at Level 1, you think to yourself, “Oh, come on, this is silly, why as long as I get seven hours sleep (snaps fingers), I’m cool.”

LEVEL 2
It’s midnight. You’ve had a few more beers. You’ve just spent twenty minutes arguing the evils and immorality of artificial turf, which has destroyed professional sports. You get up to leave again, but at Level 2, a little devil appears on your shoulder. And now you’re thinking, “Hey! I’m out with my friends! What am I worried about anyway? These are the good times! Besides, as long as I get five hours sleep (snaps fingers), I’m cool.”

LEVEL 3
One in the morning. You’ve abandoned beer for tequila. You’ve just spent twenty minutes putting forth a scholarly argument FOR artificial turf. And now you’re thinking, “Our waitress is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen!” At Level 3, you love the world. On your way to the bathroom, you buy a drink for the stranger at the end of the bar, just because you like his face. You embark on drinking fantasies, like, “Hey fellas, if we bought our own bar, we could live together forever. We could do it. Tommy, you could do the cooking.” But at Level 3, that devil is a little bigger...and he’s buying. And you’re thinking, “Oh, come on, come on. As long as I get three hours sleep...and a complete change of blood (snaps fingers), I’m cool.”

LEVEL 4
Two in the morning. And that devil is tending bar. For last call, you ordered a bottle of rum and a Coke. You ARE artificial turf. This time on your way to the bathroom, you punch the stranger at the end of the bar, just because you don’t like his face! And now you’re thinking, “Our waiter is the best looking man I’ve ever seen.” You and your friends decide to leave, right after you get thrown out. But one of you knows an after-hours bar. Here, at Level 4, you actually think to yourself, “Well, as long as I’m only going to get a few hours sleep anyway, I may as well...STAY UP ALL NIGHT!!! Yeah! That’d be good for me. I don’t mind going on the catamaran looking like Keith Richards. Yeah, I’ll turn that around, make it work for me. Besides, as long as I get at least thirty-one hours sleep tomorrow....cool.”

LEVEL 5
Five in the morning. After unsuccessfully trying to get your money back at the tattoo parlour, (“But, I don’t even KNOW anybody named Ruby!!!”), you and your friends wind up on the outskirts of Playa, in a bar surrounded by guys who have been in prison as recently as...that morning. It’s the kind of place where that little devil on your shoulder is saying, “Uh, I’m gonna turn in. I gotta be in Hell at nine. I’ve got that brunch with Hitler, I can’t miss that.” At this point, you’re all drinking some kind of thick blue liquor, like something from a Klingon wedding. A waitress with fresh stitches comes over, and you think to yourself, “Someday, I’m gonna to marry that girl!!” One of your friends stands up and screams, “WE’RE DRIVING TO FLORIDA!!!!!” - and passes out. You crawl outside for air, then you hit the worst part of Level 5...the sun. You weren’t expecting that, were you? You never do. You walk out of a bar into daylight, and you see people on their way to work, or jogging. They look at you, and they know. They say, “Who’s Ruby?” Let’s be honest, if you’re 19 and you stay up all night, it’s a victory...like you’ve vanquished the night. But if you’re over 30, then the sun is like God’s flashlight. At times like that, we all say the same prayer, “I swear, I will never do this again (how long?), as long as I live!” And some of us add that little afterthought, “And this time, I mean it!”