The South African term for Hangover is “BABALAS” (pronounced BA- BA- LUSS).
When I was 18 I suffered my first babalas. My subject for that story was called “Control”.
It's funny when I look at how I wrote the story back then. Judging by the untidy handwriting and millions of corrections all over the page, I must have had one massive babalas.

My opening line was: “All I can say is WOW”, I think that about explains it.
I was so angry at myself. The whole way through I kept telling myself it was stupid; I didn't control the amount of alcohol I put in and thought I had done THE WORST thing EVER in the world.

My curiosity killed me. Back then I kept telling myself “I will never drink too much in one night” etc etc etc but somewhere along the line, there was a change in me. I never realized what the end result was going to be.

My summary to my introduction was: “Did I have control over my control; or did CONTROL, have its control over me?”
Shame. I was VERY confused and clearly still very much babalas.

This is how tequila and I apparently met the first time:

ME: Oh hi Tequila, my name is Claudia, its so nice to meet, have heard lots about you!

 TEQUILA: Hi Claudia, yes everyone knows me and I normally have fun with everyone. 

 ME: Cool, I'm sure we will get along just fine.

TEQUILA: I'm sure we will too. Make sure I pop around every hour or so, and I'm sure you'll start noticing why everyone talks about me.
ME: GREAT! Lets get started then!

There I was, all naïve and had absolutely NO IDEA what was going to happen next. I thought I would NEVER get drunk. I mean, please, what type of people get drunk?? PFFF..

As the night went on I kept close to old faithful Cider, who I had met a few times before. We always had a good time together in moderate dosages of course. Never had arguments. We were just the perfect match

As the night grew older, so did my liver. Every time Tequila would show face, I really, really started hating its company. The more it came around, the bitter its presence became.

NEXT thing I knew, I was introduced to Public Club Toilet. Lets just call it PCT for short.
Now PCT had many interesting stories by the looks of it. PCT was all tattooed on the outside and seemed as though PCT only cleaned once every three days. PCT was strong, stingy and really the strong and silent type unless you pressed its buttons.

While I was meeting PCT for the first time, 

Tequila decided to make a sudden rude, and obnoxious interruption... 

Tequila, just came out of no where. No warning. Tequila had just decided that tonight it was Tequila's turn for the lime light and no one else's. Luckily for me, the conversation that took place was only between the three of us, so I didn't need to feel too embarrassed. 

Tequila just decided to take over all the conversation and left me, mouth dry. I had no words to explain what happened and felt incredibly embarrassed on behalf of Tequila. People say they heard the conversation but I still deny that we ever met that night, not like that anyway.