Let’s Get Drunk!

...and we want it NOW!

As the world’s pre-eminent social lubricant, booze has been popular worldwide since before the dawn of civilization. Only the most repressive and fucked-up cultures and religions forbid alcohol. The rest of us like to get drunk, act stupid and fuck inappropriate people. Alcohol isn’t just a drug; it’s a component of human evolution and shows no signs of flagging in popularity.

Like every other red-blooded American, I have packed away plenty of alcohol in my day. In my youth (from ages 13-32), I had a particular fondness for it. Now that I’m older, I’m more relaxed about it. I hardly drink at all, really. It’s not unusual for me to go a few months without any alcohol. Why? Because I’m just sick of it, I think.

This is really bad news for my social status. It’s pretty hard to wriggle out of the social pressure to drink. If you’re not a recovering alcoholic, then you are either an undesirable loser or a party pooper. There  isn’t any room in society for people who are not interested in drinking merely because they’re simply not interested in drinking.

Alcohol delivers good times - every time!

It’s unfortunate that the one drug that causes awful behavior, sickness, death, misery and car wrecks is the only preferred legal drug. We’d be better off with marijuana being universally consumed and alcohol forced into the underground shadows.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m no Carrie Nation. People should be free to drink. But I’ve just lost interest in it. I don’t drink alone. I’ll drink only because the social occasion calls for it.

My personal preferences range over the spectrum of the alcohol universe. I can even be snobby about it. I hate the cheap beer I adored as a teen. I’ve also developed a discerning palate for good wine. A properly made martini is a joy, and I also treasure certain whiskeys. All these are fine and dandy, but only in moderation. I’m a lightweight drinker, which adds to the complexity of social drinking interaction.

This is what happens when I drink:

1 – 2 drinks. Face gets flushed.
Start feeling unease, almost feverish.
Otherwise, still the same old sober Ted.

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2 – 6 drinks. Socially lubricated.
Flushing in face is gone.
This is the best buzz stage;
I’m funny and relaxed.

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7 – 10 drinks. What began gracefully has become ugly.
Bullshit spews from my mouth.
I make extremely poor value judgments.
Time to call a cab, because coming up…

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10+ drinks. I’m a mess.
The room (or taxi) is spinning.
I am poisoned. This is no longer fun.
My night is ruined, as is the next day.

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So, is it worth it? Is alcohol the best possible choice? I’m not so sure.

I’m not anal enough to strictly limit my alcohol consumption at every possible turn. We all flirt with those ‘sheets in the wind’. The problem is, with alcohol, the penalty for failing to administrate yourself is disgrace, prison and death. Whereas with marijuana, the penalty is a Doritos bellyache, deep sleep and maybe a missed exit on the highway.

Alcohol: why I do still love thee? You are a fickle siren, and I am a foolish sailor on your seas. You have never loved me, yet still I return. I hate you.