Thursday, November 12, 2009
People who never drink alcohol make me nervous. They may have a very good reason for not drinking such as addiction, allergies, obesity, religion, etc. But nonetheless they still make me nervous. I see them looking at me with their judgmental eyes as I consume my chilled beverage and embark upon that joyful journey from sobriety to Funtown. They might have more living brain cells than me, they might live a longer life than me, and they might never do stupid things they’ll regret in the morning like me, but just think of all the great things they’re missing out on:
• Boring people will never be even remotely interesting.
• Live concerts will never sound quite as good or be quite as moving an experience.
• Ugly people will remain just that.
• Greasy, fatty food at 2:00 am in the morning will never be such a culinary treat.
• At live sporting events they’ll never be quite as good a fan as they could be.
• They’ll realize they have no business dancing in public and ruin the show for the rest of us.
• Every time they use their phone late at night it will be a “sober dial” and where’s the fun in that?
• They’ll have to deal with their stress using healthy means like exercise and therapy – booooring.
• When they do stupid shit they won’t be able to blame it on the booze – personal responsibility is so overrated.
• And how about the gratuitous delight that is unapologetic, sloppy drunk sex? You can’t do that sober.
I could go on and on with this list, but you get the point. Drinking alcohol is nothing to look down on. If anything those of us who do drink should feel sorry for all the people who don’t. How difficult it must be for them to carry on a conversation with a person they don’t like and pretend to actually give a shit, or attend an obligatory work function and not act like they’d rather be someplace else (anyplace else), or try to pick up on a chick in a bar without the proper amount of social lubrication, or try to hit a golf ball straight on the golf course without an ample dose of aiming sauce, or even just make it through the minutia of everyday life without a couple pops during work hours. Um… perhaps I’ve said too much. Ah fuck it – I could literally give two shits what anyone else thinks of me. Good thing I'm already halfway in the bag.
Cheers to being a hot mess.