I still have not ticked off this item in my bucket list and then a while ago while lying on my bed staring at nothing, I realized, who am I kidding?
As far as I can tell there are only four stages of alcohol influence (five if you include the state of being sober). Tipsy (ideal state), drunk (when you start doing things you wish you didn’t), dead drunk (when everyone makes fun of you because you’re too gone to respond/shoo them away) and fatal drunk (when you need to be brought to the emergency room lest you want to die).
I drink not to get drunk (no one wants to babysit when they themselves are having fun) nor forget problems (because you really can not, they just appear less severe) nor appear cool (it is who you are that makes you cool, not what you do) nor due to peer pressure (okay, sometimes). I like it because it’s fun and alcohol lessens the tension, makes everyone easier to please, makes conversations bolder (by making the conversationalists braver to express their opinions), blurs un-pleasantries away, makes almost everything funny, creates memories to be laughed at when remembered plus nice candid pictures for proof, and did I mention it was fun? I once saw a meme with a drawing of a gentleman saying that he drinks not to solve problems or etc, he drinks because he can. Now that’s something.
I don’t see anything wrong with drinking as long as you do so responsibly and you are willing to accept the consequences of your actions the night before. What gives it a bad name are the drunkards who create commotions and make a fool out of themselves. As the never ending adage goes, everything in excess is bad. Once or twice a month is good, daily means you have to review your life.
I am a hypocrite if I say I’ve never been drunk because I’ve had my fair share of that state when everything is whirling and you have a hard time controlling your limbs as well as the words that come out of your mouth. I almost fell off the stairs, shouted that Central was on fire just because a waiter was holding “flaming tuna”, woke up with bruises on my hands which I later found out were my own bite marks because I wanted to counterattack the analgesic effect of alcohol, went home to a friend’s grandmother’s house and vomited many times while my other group mates are writing our case study, cried to Trix that my parents didn’t want me to be “this” way, and said some below the belt jokes among many other embarrassing hings.
Despite all of those, I am still a good “drunk” because I have seen others do far worse, the kind where they don’t want to show their faces again because there’s nothing to show. Actually, I end up being the “after carer” most of the time: I get the bill and divide it equally while subtracting individual orders here and there, I put the bottles in one corner and wash the dishes and put everyone to sleep (force them if they resist) and all those things. My most dreaded work though, is helping one to expel the contents of his stomach in the toilet as fast as possible or else I’d clean up the unwanted fluids on unwanted places.
My favorite kind are the “chill” ones, like one Sunday night with TLW or “isang bote” on the 7th floor of Robinson’s Residences equipped with dinner and the less polluted Manila air. You spend time with good friends and you drink for no apparent reason, just like what the meme said, you drink because you can.
Cheers to responsible drinking!