My first hangover was intentional, for the sake of art.
I was doing a play (A Thurber Carnival
), and the sketch was "If Grant had been Drinking at Appomattox". I'd never had a hangover at that point, so at the weekend theatre party I deliberately drank as much as I could-- beer, Seagrams, Harvey Wallbangers, and orange vodka on top of all that. It worked, especially when for the Saturday rehearsal I had to bump heads with another guy.
Most of my drinking was social drinking after work, and I scaled back on that after two incidents. The first was trying to drive home 11 miles on city streets during a snow storm. I managed to get home somehow, but woke up the next morning in bed and had no memory of how I got there. Then I couldn't find my pants. Searched the house and eventually found them. Apparently, as soon as I got inside the house, I locked the door and dropped my pants right there and staggered to bed. I just didn't remember doing any of that.
The second time was about 10 years later, again after work. I was in serious trouble when I left the bar, and had 20 miles of interstate driving to get home. I was seeing double lines on the road and the whole bit. That scared me enough to never get that drunk again.