At the end of the story he is probably

Choices:
A. Going to the bar again
B. not enough information
C. Married
D. Not drinking anymore
Not drinking anymore
This was 20 years ago, maybe.
My girlfriend (at the time) and I were planning to go on a day trip on a Saturday, and so the Friday night before, we decided to celebrate our mini vacation by having a few drinks at a local bar. It was a known hangout for bikers, and had a reputation of being a rowdy place, but I was on good terms with a few of the regulars, and felt safe enough.
As the night wore on, I started getting out of control, and didn’t even realize it. I loved my girlfriend deeply, and had no desire to be with anyone else, but that night I was most definitely not myself. I was told that I openly flirted with the barmaid in front of my girlfriend, bet and lost on the pool table several times, and tried to start fights with some of the patrons, as I strongly suspected that someone had slipped something into my drink.
At the time, I was a seasoned drinker, and the amount of alcohol I had consumed that night was pretty minimal in comparison, so naturally I was convinced that someone was messing with me.
To this day I’m still not sure if my drinks were spiked, or it was just one of those nights. I do know that I hadn’t eaten prior to that, so I would tend to choose the latter culprit, even though it pained me to admit it.
I woke up the next afternoon in my own bed, with no memory of the trip home, a screaming hangover headache, and no girlfriend.
She eventually forgave me, and we were together off and on for a few more years before we grew apart. I haven’t set foot in that bar since, so I have no idea if I’m barred, or how the people there felt about me. I hope they’ve moved on, but I’m still too scared to find out.
It’s an experience I never want to repeat, even though I didn’t actually experience anything. :/