Knowledge wasn't going to help in this case. It was worse than useless against the supernatural because you thought you had a chance when you really didn't.

Crowley didn't bother to react and just slogged slowly back to New Orleans Square, drawing on his reserves to make it back without collapsing. If he had to have a roommate, at least it was one who knew better than to fuck with him when he was in this kind of mood. He grabbed the first bottle on his way past the bar, went in his room, and locked the door.