drank

The coat check ticket from my first time at a downtown club two days ago.

I really don’t like things with alcohol in them. Drinks that are supposed to be classy taste acrid and burn going down my throat, and drinks that are supposed to taste good (“You can’t even taste the alcohol!”—yes. Yes, you can.) are too sweet and syrupy. I’d really rather just stick to water.

My aversion to drinking kind of puts people off—even my own mother gets irritated and sometimes upset by my staunch dislike of alcoholic beverages. I haven’t tried all the drinks out there, she says, and I’m being close-minded. I don’t care. Having tried sea urchin before, for instance, I don’t need to try it again over and over to make sure that nothing has changed since the last time.

It’s often assumed that I have something against drinking or “what it stands for,” but I promise you that’s not the case. I’m not claiming some sort of moral high ground or any other kind of shitty excuse for why I don’t relish in drinking perhaps as much as anyone would like to believe. I also have nothing against anyone who does drink; I’m not opposed to trying different drinks myself. But if I’m going out and spending my own money at some place for dancing and the like, I’d really rather avoid spending tons of money on glasses of stuff I hate. And at home, I don’t want to crack a full beer to have one sip and dump the rest of it. It’s wasteful, and that is the long and short of it.

But then again, it could always go further than that.

Maybe on some deeper subconscious level I’m scared of drinking, of finding out what I’m like without my usual reservations and hypercautionary awareness. Maybe I see drinking as a step into an adult world I don’t feel ready to be a part of just yet, and to gulp down strange beverages would be akin to leaving childhood behind forever. Maybe my rejection of drinking is inexplicably linked to my own fear of change, of stepping anywhere outside of my comfort zone, and accepting a new social norm would mean letting go of the last few ties that bind me to what’s familiar and warm and safe.

I guess I’ll let you be the judge of that.

An addendum: I tried a Pornstar Cocktail and it was great. Nothing else, though.

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Victoria

Writes words mostly on the go. Lentils are life.

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