The Anatomy of a 'Drunk' in 1883
A local observer breaks down the social mechanics of the saloon-crawl, from the first casual invitation to the inevitable collapse on the floor.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
What is a drunk? One of the simplest things in the world, to wit: 'Have a drink, Tom?' 'Don't care if I do, Dick.' They adjourn to the nearest establishment the proprietor deals in. Tom and Dick, and possibly Harry, make themselves at home in front of the counter, behind which the genial countenance and glittering diamond of the compounder of complicated Americanisms beams upon them. Dick's glass is filled and placed 'where the flies won't get it,' when Tom thinks it behooves him to keep his end up, and a repetition of the several concoctions is ordered. Here probably appears the only unexplainable point; if Dick had met Tom about lunch time, when both their massive intellects were centered on attending to the demands of hunger, and Dick had invited Tom in to dine, it is scarcely probable that after the meal Tom would think it necessary to slap Dick on the back and ask him to 'have another dinner.' But even supposing the dinner had been a little unsatisfactory, and such an event should occur, it is certainly improbable that, after the bones of the second partridge lay picked upon the board, Dick should declare they had better 'have another.' But in the case of the 'drunk' this is not only likely but the usual occurrence, and does not stop with the third repetition. It sets around to Tom again, and then to Dick and to Harry, and then to a newly found friend, for all of these new friends seem to spring up at all corners of the bar. Finally it comes to pass that Dick's and Tom's and Harry's legs become in some way affected, and it is with difficulty they support their respective owners, and at last give out entirely and deposit them in a complicated lump on the floor. This is the beginning of the end. If Tom or Dick were capable of getting their bearings about enough, they would even declare they were enjoying a 'glorious time.' A little later, after having been led to the door by the possessor of the same genial countenance and glistening diamond and kindly faced towards their houses, whose location is fixed by said individual at his own discretion, they are left to seek the portals as best they may. Still firm in their own convictions that it would be impossible to pass a more glorious night, they congregate in the gutter to talk over the pleasant proceedings of the evening. Result, $1 and costs.
“Finally it comes to pass that Dick's and Tom's and Harry's legs become in some way affected, and it is with difficulty they support their respective owners, and at last give out entirely.”
While the style is colorful, this piece offers a sharp-eyed critique of 'treat culture' in saloons that was a precursor to the temperance movement which eventually swept the state. It highlights the social pressures of drinking in a frontier city where public spaces were synonymous with the bar.
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