I’m now on my third drink, determined to get at least a little buzzed. While I have a pretty high tolerance, the drinks aren’t very strong. But while weak drinks are often called “watery,” I can pay no such compliment to these: They are mixy. I made that term up, but what I really mean is I’m mostly drinking sweet and sour mix, which apparently is like sour mix, but with sugar. I order a fourth, because four dollars is less than any singular cocktail I’ve ordered since I moved to New York City, four (plus) years ago. And here, my adult brain finally silences my college brain: Yes, I could keep going, but that’s not the same as should keep going. I throw in the towel, pay the bill, and leave .