You may not know it, but you've met Augusten Burroughs. You've seen him onthe street, in bars, on the subway, at restaurants: a twenty-something guy, nicesuit, works in advertising. Regular. Ordinary. But when the ordinary person had two drinks, Augusten was circling the drain by having twelve; when the ordinary person went home at midnight, Augusten never went home at all.Loud, distracting ties, automated wake-up calls, and cologne on the tongue could only hide so much