How not to have a raging hangover in Austin, TX

First of all, do not go to the gym before heading out on Friday night. It depletes the protective barrier of calories in your body that will shield you from the many drinks you will later put inside of it. Under no circumstances go to the Hancock Center 24 Hour Fitness, and decide to do that neat fat-burning cardio workout you saw in a magazine which involves "intervals" and "sprints" and other techniques just a few notches below sadomasochism. Don't congratulate yourself when you're finished, either.

But if you weren't thinking and went to the gym anyway, you probably shouldn't head promptly to the impossibly adorable Blue Dahlia Bistro with a lover, fancy yourself dining in a quaint French villa, and use that as an excuse to order wine like the "French" do (i.e. in excess). Oh, and you know that delicious bubbly chardonnay they serve? And all the warnings you've heard all your life from everyone that bubbles make you drunk faster? For that reason, DON'T ORDER IT. Especially don't order three glasses.

Ok, but let's assume your judgment has taken a vacation for the evening, you worked out, you went to Blue Dahlia, you ordered all the wine. Ok. At this point, events can still reverse themselves. Maybe you should order a big dinner to soak up all the alcohol, right? When you're pawing at your husband inappropriately and speaking in a volume suitable enough for Round Rock residents to join in, why, it's time to order the ravioli, yes? Or the crepes? Let the food molecules break down all the bubbles and alcoholic poison you just imbibed. But what you should not do - I repeat, Not. Do. - is order a measly (albeit yummy) salad because frankly you aren't hungry, and then eat about 1/3 of it. Man up. Eat the damn salad. Then order the four cheese lasagna.

But let's say your eating abilities failed spectacularly on this one particular night. You tried to show that salad who was boss, and embarrassingly enough, the salad won. The salad made you its bitch. After that, you probably should not stumble over to Longbranch Inn, especially if you walk in the opposite direction of Longbranch at first because you're a little driz-unk and then have to wheel right back around and march there with purpose. This can't end well, and you know it. So don't walk in. Don't hug all your friends. Don't ask the husband, "which cocktail should I order from this fine establishment?" and do NOT take his advice when he says, "how 'bout a cran and vodka?" Oh God, those are really good, but also dangerous and you're smarter than that. So don't order one and suck it down immediately.

When everyone around you is still drinking, because like normal people they don't finish their drinks in 0.5 seconds, don't assume it's ok to just get up and order (or worse, demand rudely, which you have a habit of doing sometimes) another cran and vodka. Or did someone order it for you? Either way: refusal is key. Because that would be your fourth drink in roughly an hour, actually your fifth or sixth, since the waitress back at Dlue Bahlia said that bubbly chardonnay you weren't supposed to order was a glass-and-half amount. "It's a good deal."

But you've been a proper idiot and you did all of those things, and finally someone suggests they take you home. So when you walk out of Longbranch, don't start waving hi and yelling at that random group of people across the street because they look friendly. Those are strangers, and now they're laughing at you. Which will make you laugh and almost trip on the sidewalk, so better to avoid the whole interaction entirely. Just duck into the car and let your incredibly kind roommate drive you and your (comparatively sober) husband home.

If you simply do not do all of these things above, Austinites, just like I've told you, you will not wake up on Saturday morning looking like death and feeling like God has stepped on your face.