Murphy Row: Supply and Demand of Hangovers

We all know about supply and demand. Some of us took Economics in college and the rest of us know what wikipedia is. Situations arise that throw off supply and demand in such a dramatic fashion that it can create an entirely new economy. Being severely hungover is one such scenario in which the value of everything becomes so skewed that the entire economy collapses to bartering.

This economic collapse does not apply to the garden variety hangover. This applies to the ‘go outside and vomit in the garden’ variety hangover. This economic collapse applies to the epic hangover that takes multiple recovery days. It applies to the hangover that actually makes you keep your vow that you will never drink again… well at least for a few weeks. This does not apply to the hangover that just takes a Vitamin Water and a greasy breakfast, it applies to the hangover where food has completely exited the economic exchange.

The following is a quick bartering guide for the severely hungover economy.

A Cold Gatorade- When severely hungover, any room temperature drink can spell disaster, so the value for having a cold drink is at a premium. When you don’t have a cold Gatorade, it is literally worth- inventing a time machine to go back in time, go to the store, buy a gatorade, and put it in your fridge yesterday. Why not go back in time and not drink as much? Because, you had a freaking amazing time and thats not what this is about. Why not just go to the store and get a cold Gatorade yourself? That is the perfect question to lead us into the next hungover economic topic.

Distance- In the severely hungover economy, distance has inverse relationship to value. The further away something is, the less value it has. A cold Gatorade has absolutely no value in a store because you can’t imagine making it to the other side of the room, let alone down the stairs and into the world. Any object that is within two bodily movements (i.e. sit up/reach) are the only things that exist in your world and thus their value increases with a limited supply.

Phone- Related to distance, the phone has immense value when it is within reach and fully charged. The prospect of having to plug in your phone to charge it makes a dead phone as valuable as an opinion at a Trump rally. Conversely a charged phone within reach can eliminate the mutiplicative effect of distance, assuming you can answer your door… and look into the light of the phone. Which brings us to the next point…

Light- can suck it. It has no value in the severely hungover economy. The worst culprit of them all-The Sun– has the value of a Bobcat Goldthwait Christmas Album. Eat a bag of dicks, Sun.

Pepto Bismal- other heartburn medications argue you should buy their product to fight heartburn because it is designed to fight heartburn and they don’t waste time on the symptoms you don’t have. But when you have all five symptoms, nausea, heartburn, indigestion, upset stomach, and diarrhea, Pepto has the economic value of inventing penicillin.

A Phone Call From Your Mom- Zero Value. Nothing against your mom, anybody that makes you phone ring can go hang out with the Sun and that bag.

A Less Hungover Friend- A less hungover friend has simultaneously the most and least value possible. If you have a big strong friend that can carry you around like Hodor, then you are forever indebted to that friend. Similarly a less hungover friend can handle everything that take three bodily movements or more, which is worth that friend having your wallet and all of your pin numbers to make every purchase for you. If your less hungover friend does not understand your hangover and tries to tell you that, “You just need the hair of the dog that bit you, just suck it up, get back on the horse, and have a bloody Mary, man.” This friend has the value of a poet who mixes metaphors, and he or she can take a long walk off of a short pier… and burn in hell.