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thought i was a donut, ya tried to glaze me

5.28.2007

we drink & we dry up & then we crumble into dust...

Everybody has an alter-ego when drinking.

There's the SluttyDrunk, where people rub up on everyone they can and makeout on dancefloors and wake up the next morning going, "Who's bed am I in?"

Then there's the BeligerentDrunk, which results in broken bottles and lots of yelling and trips to Central Booking.

I can't forget about the CryingDrunk--sitting in the corner, weeping into their Long Island Iced Tea, mourning the end of their last relationship or wondering why so-and-so won't love them.


When I get drunk, I don't change into another person.

I stay the same, just in more severe stages. In fact, I have three stages when drinking.



Stage One: I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG!
Generally happens at around beer 4. If there's music playing, I start singing along; if there isn't music playing, I just start singing. If I'm in a bar with a DJ it's around now that I decide to start harassing the person spinning to play "Gloria" or "Higher Love" or some other embarrasing song that I wouldn't admit until Stage One that I loved. This is also when I start dancing.


Stage Two: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T WATCH "30 ROCK"??!?!?!?!?
It's no secret that I love TV--I talk about it all the time when I'm sober. But somewhere between beers 6 and 8 I start getting really, really intense about "my shows" and what's happening on them and my other problems within the storylines. My worst display of this (and, well, of my life) was at Catherine Grady's 19th Birthday Keg, when I (on camera, of which the tape [that i own] will never be seen by anyone, ever) got real emotional and serious about...Luke and Lorelai kissing on the season 4 Gilmore Girls finale. This highlight was rare; I usually end up recommending shows to people, berating them for not watching them in the first place and telling them that the shows they watch are "shit" or "contributing to the breakdown of American culture." Oh hey-- that last line leads me to the last stage...


Stage Three: DON'T CALL ME A COMMIE, YOU FUCKING FASCIST!
Oh, Stage Three--how I've offended so many people while hanging out with you. You wanna hear what I think of the President? Get me to beer #10, and I'll be all up in your face like I'm Bill O'Reilly. Speaking of Bill O'Reilly--"you watch that asshole? fuck him. fuck you. you'll be sorry you voted for Bush in the last election, you ignorant bastard. it was an inside job, do you hear me? google that shit, IT'S ALL THERE!"

The thing about Stage Three and my semi-intelligent political rants that come along with it is that it never ended well. For starters, there's no place for that talk in a bar or at a party or in someone's dining room at a dinner party (especially when they don't agree with me). The only time it's cool to get like that at a table is when it's on the set of The View...and a booth in Connolly's is not The View. So after I offended one-too many people, I had to do a little reflecting and cut Stage Three out of my life.

Sure, it was hard. I didn't stop drinking, but I did make a concious effort to stick to Stage Two. Which meant watching more TV, which I didnt' really mind.

And what's past those stages? Is there a Stage Four or Five somewhere in my future? And if so, what would they be? Maybe a SluttyDrunk or something, so I can finally get some action.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

was that long island iced tea referencing me?? (good call)- clare

I wonder if my writing has even improved?