Oh, McNulty. Okay, obviously, we've seen the man drunk before. But he is seriously sixteen sheets to the wind wa-HAY-sted as he picks up the receiver of a bar pay phone and punches in a number with all the dexterity of a tranq-stuck bear. We can hear Elena's voice on the outgoing message of her answering machine, and then McNulty slurs, "Elena, yagadda talk to me." The bartender announces last call, and McNulty barely manages to hang the phone up again before staggering awkwardly back to his stool and mumbling, "Why is she such a pain in the ass?" This bar is quite a bit nicer than the homey dives McNulty usually patronizes with Bunk, so the place is practically empty at last call, and the other boozers look at McNulty with varying mixtures of pitying disdain. However, the bartender does know McNulty, and calls him by his name when he wearily refuses McNulty's request for another drink. McNulty bellows at him to "pour it!," and the bartender -- apparently not concerned that he could be arrested for overserving a cop -- perfunctorily checks that McNulty won't be driving. I am surprised this guy is willing even to trust McNulty's ability to get to a cab, since he could barely walk across the floor without nutting himself on a table. The bartender, Gus, looks dubious, so McNulty widens his eyes as much as he is able (which is: not that much), and insists that he really and truly is not driving a car tonight.

Cut to: McNulty driving a car tonight, obviously. And, not well. He's weaving all over the road, and can barely keep his eyes open as he slurs along with the Pogues (again: obviously) on the radio. He takes a corner too fast and knocks out his right headlight; the camera comes around to that side of the car so that we can see how badly he's bashed in that whole corner of the car, and then McNulty manages to extricate himself from the driver's seat to inspect the damage. Effortfully, he manages to blurt, "Bite me" -- whether to the the pole that struck him or to the car that failed to absorb the impact, it's not quite clear. McNulty comes back around to the driver's side, and we watch him from several distances as he points with his fingers, back the way he came, and charts a different trajectory...

...and then we see McNulty reversing back around the corner with his one headlight, taking a few tries to throw it back into D, skittering forward on his misaligned wheel, and hitting the same pole again -- this time, scraping the passenger side of the car up a treat and taking out the windows. The camera pans from the smashed glass up to McNulty, hunched over the steering wheel, his hand bleeding, lucky to be alive, or...not lucky, under the circumstances.