Some days you get it right. Turns out that today, “right” meant having friends over, getting Chipotle, playing video games, and drinking Jagermeister out on the deck. Also, Captain Morgan Tattoo was in there somewhere.
I’m still new to this whole drinking thing. I stayed away from it during college, because no one seemed to do it in a way that wasn’t stupid, and I didn’t want to get sucked into that wormhole. I stayed away from it in grad school because it was a habit by then, and well, who had the time. Now that I own a home, though, and all the problem drinkers are now far, far away in bad decision land, I can comfortably give it a go.
It’s actually pretty empowering. I spent a lot of emotional energy over the years either afraid of the stuff or trying to compensate for the void tee-totaling leaves in adult social interaction. Drinking, and doing it responsibly, is a middle finger to every bro/drunk I’ve ever met, and has the added benefit of making it easier to blend in a crowd.
You should have heard Dan squeal when I told him I’d started drinking. Like, actually squeal, like a piglet in a room full of theremins.
Here are my rules for responsible drinking for adults. First, don’t drink and drive, dummy. To me, that means no driving after any drinking. Second, don’t drink to get drunk. Alcohol is not a coping skill, and using it that way is a highway to bad decision town. Third, no beer. I already don’t move enough. Add beer to that, and I’ll be shocking internet photo fat in no time.
Fourth, rum. That is all.