How much is your 15 minutes worth, Vodka Sam?

At the risk of sound like a condescending curmudgeon, here’s a post about Vodka Sam.

Who is Vodka Sam? She’s 22 year-old Samantha Goudie, the college student who rushed the field of the University of Iowa v. Northern Illinois football game last weekend. College antics, right, no big deal. She was drunk, she rushed on to the field. Nothing to see here.

So, what’s the story? Well, Sam Goudie (whose Twitter handle is @VodkaSam) was arrested, booked, and given a breathalizer test, which according to the local police report showed Sam had, wait for it…a .341 blood alcohol content.

341.

As you hopefully are aware, .08 is currently the legal limit for driving. According to BRAD, .400 is “onset of coma, possible death due to respiratory failure.” So, yeah, .341 well, that’s more drunk than you have likely ever been. Ever.

Upon her release from jail, Vodka Sam tweeted:

Just went to jail. #yolo

Blew a .341 in jail

I’m going to get .341 tattooed on me because its so epic

She continued, and her story was picked up on Twitter, and eventually spread to the rest of the internets. For this inebriation accomplishment Vodka Sam is receiving her 15 minutes of fame.

Deadspin picked up the story, writing:  “Unsteady on her feet” seems like a ridiculously nice way of saying Goudie was unfathomably shithoused.”

Mashable, too: “We’re honestly not quite sure how Goudie survived what must have been a truly epic pre-game tailgate session.”

Since then, everyone on the internet has posted about Vodka Sam. Far be it for this blog to avoid the subject.

So here’s my two cents: I can scarcely imagine a .341 drunk.  If it’s true that Samantha Goudie was able to drink herself to a .341, and if her peers and pals were drinking along with her and somehow managed to let this woman reach such incomprehensible levels of drunkenness we can scarcely believe it’s possible, well, you’ve got a problem on your hands, Sam, Sam’s parent, University of Iowa. Seriously. Those are major, but personal problems.

The bigger gripe: What’s up with the celebration of Vodka Sam? The admiration and sense of pride that appears to accompany Ms. Goudie’s most terrible accomplishment? The marriage proposals and competitive spirit that has resulted. Basking in the fame that accompanies ultra-inebriation. There’s always been a public fascination with celebrities and their drink-inspired disasters (Mel Gibson, Charlie Sheen, et al). But these folks were already celebrities. Now, in the good ol’ US of A, one can become a celebrity on the basis of drink-inspired disasters? Commemorative T-Shirts, body-shots in her honor at bars, myriad celebrations of a young girl’s public intoxication. Maybe it’s me, but seems like we may have crossed some kind of Rubicon on public drunkenness with this one. And that’s our problem, not Sam’s. That is a social problem.

So, Sam, take it easy. Many of us love a good drink, now and then. Even several. Parties and good-times and fun with drinks and friends. As long as no one’s driving, no big whoop.

But .341? That shit ain’t funny. That’s knocking on the door, dear.

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