One of the minor characters who worked at the paper [the now-defunct New York Herald] in the 30s was a stylish sot who had the best drunken drama-critic name of All Time: Lucius Beebe. He applied for his job wearing yellow gloves, clutching a walking stick, and was hired on the spot for no particular reason. A few nights later he appeared at the bar where the writers (and editors!) drank, and Kluger describes his attire: "White tie and tails, top hat, red velvet-lined opera cloak, silver-tipped walking stick; he was smoking a cigar less than a foot long but not by much." He later wrote a syndicated column on New York nightlife, describing what Beebe called "the nervous hilarity of the damned." His favorite drink was something he called "a rye gag," and after he got hammered at two he took a nap, a Turkish bath, then made the rounds of the nightspots to soak up news for his column. Kruger again: "He was said to be the only staff regular whose work allowed him to get drunk twice each day."
I am in the wrong part of the media business. I NEVER get to wear my opera cloak to work!