Wine in Doses
Hello. I’m martea and I’m an occasional drinker…
In a recent conversation with shadowkillers, I was made to relive the mad drunken nights I witnessed and had heard of.
From recollection, there was that time where I was taking shots from a mug because I had a bad cold and was icked by the idea of sharing the jigger to be passed around. And then, there was also that party when cooling down for coffee after the booze, Desiree’s song: “You Gotta Be” shut everybody up in the room(to which later that day, I find out the mum had a stroke). Also, there was that one sleepover with friends from first high school here at home. I don’t recall what for but before having any drinks, 2 of my friends did their laundry in our bathroom and there was this other friend, whose curfew was 10 or 12, was forgotten about by her dad and was picked up at 2 am. And last but not the least, of course, the galera trip(Steve Holt!)…
With these in mind, I’m thinking I have a high tolerance for not getting wasted(what is wrong with me?). Surely, there are those who blurt out the most trivial and maybe the most intelligent information in the midst of a drunken state; and then there also the ones who break stuff(intentional or not, I don’t need booze to be able to do this); those who get naked in public; those who get shocked the morning after to find they’re in bed with some person(and I know of some people who have been hung over bad for the 9 months that came after, too) and then I guess there’s just those people who sink into the silent abyss. Which I relate to the most since I become so aware that I’m brought there to get real drunk. That or I just take the mickey out of anyone who gets drunk easily… I’m sorry, that must be the buzz talking…
While on the subject of alcohol, still, I find it oddly amusing, the term “social drinker”. From the glasses of something that I’ve had, I don’t care whatever the hell you make me drink, it’s not going to make me “social”. Ever. Also, of kinky booze, it makes me afraid that in ordering a “cock-sucking cowboy”, out of the dingy bar door, some ex-hot cop will come out with a boom box in a cowboy costume, and serve it right up in a way… Trying to come to a close(cock-sucking cowboy, inched aside), I’m thinking its part of the intrigue that I’d want to go in a bar(or “pub”, as they say) in the UK. One nudge, one step and such sober judgment will all be rubbish, I believe… I need help.
In a recent conversation with shadowkillers, I was made to relive the mad drunken nights I witnessed and had heard of.
From recollection, there was that time where I was taking shots from a mug because I had a bad cold and was icked by the idea of sharing the jigger to be passed around. And then, there was also that party when cooling down for coffee after the booze, Desiree’s song: “You Gotta Be” shut everybody up in the room(to which later that day, I find out the mum had a stroke). Also, there was that one sleepover with friends from first high school here at home. I don’t recall what for but before having any drinks, 2 of my friends did their laundry in our bathroom and there was this other friend, whose curfew was 10 or 12, was forgotten about by her dad and was picked up at 2 am. And last but not the least, of course, the galera trip(Steve Holt!)…
With these in mind, I’m thinking I have a high tolerance for not getting wasted(what is wrong with me?). Surely, there are those who blurt out the most trivial and maybe the most intelligent information in the midst of a drunken state; and then there also the ones who break stuff(intentional or not, I don’t need booze to be able to do this); those who get naked in public; those who get shocked the morning after to find they’re in bed with some person(and I know of some people who have been hung over bad for the 9 months that came after, too) and then I guess there’s just those people who sink into the silent abyss. Which I relate to the most since I become so aware that I’m brought there to get real drunk. That or I just take the mickey out of anyone who gets drunk easily… I’m sorry, that must be the buzz talking…
While on the subject of alcohol, still, I find it oddly amusing, the term “social drinker”. From the glasses of something that I’ve had, I don’t care whatever the hell you make me drink, it’s not going to make me “social”. Ever. Also, of kinky booze, it makes me afraid that in ordering a “cock-sucking cowboy”, out of the dingy bar door, some ex-hot cop will come out with a boom box in a cowboy costume, and serve it right up in a way… Trying to come to a close(cock-sucking cowboy, inched aside), I’m thinking its part of the intrigue that I’d want to go in a bar(or “pub”, as they say) in the UK. One nudge, one step and such sober judgment will all be rubbish, I believe… I need help.