Reality had managed to break through Percy's drunken stupor that he was able to remember his name and several basic facts about his life, though he was nowhere near being something approaching sober.
"I've tried," he admitted, loosening his grip on the bottle. "It doesn't work. But I'm supposed to be used to them by now."
He looked at the man's plate - he still wasn't quite able to recognize him, but he could at least feel a familiarity - and felt a strange mix of hunger and nausea. "No. I don't think I've eaten since..." he did a mental calculation, "lunch, yesterday."