The Sine Qua Non of Life???

So, tonight I go out and about on the town. Well, okay, not on the town, but locally, I do go out. I figure I will have a couple beers and see where it goes from there. I get to Avenues with Steve about nine and I make a bee-line straight for the bar, order a tall beer, and then we start playing Golden T. After I finished my first beer, thirty-six holes later, Steve is already on his third with no signs of slowing (and that’s okay cause I am driving). I went up to the cute little blond bartender and handed her my glass. She started to fill the glass, then to her and my surprise, a voice told her not to bother with another beer, but to grab me a Pepsi instead.
Did I just say that? I questioned myself. The bartender’s eyebrows arched quizzically as if to ask me if I was sure. Again to my amazement I started to nod my head. After handing me my new glass full of sweet dark soda, I reached for my wallet and made ready to pay. She told me I could keep my money, because designated drivers drink for free. Then she smiled and walked away. I had forgotten about that little tidbit. I tipped her a few anyway and headed back to the arcade game where Steve looked up from the glowing screen and gave me a funny look. “Is that soda?” He asked me. I looked down at the glass in my hand, which felt extremely foreign at the time. I reminded me of an old routine Dean Martin used to do with Frank Sinatra (or one of the other Rat Pack buddies), where Dean would tell whoever was up on stage with him, “Hey-there-pal-i—let’s have a drink and be somebody…” And then the straight-man would reply, “But Dean, you are drinking…” Then Dean would look down at his hand holding a scotch and reply, “Oh! Is that my hand?”
I tried to think of something clever to say like Mr. Dean "classy" Martin, but nothing came and I just smiled dumbly and blushed. I expected a wisecrack from Steve, but was relieved when I received none. He simply shrugged and threw more money into the infernal, evil, evil, delectable golf machine. Money better spent right? Sure.
So, the question remains, why did I not order another beer? I guess the easy answer is that I did not want another one. Some reason Pepsi just tasted better in my mouth when I walked up to the counter. I just didn’t want to get drunk. And I knew if I had another, especially a tall one, I would not stop after that one either.
I have to admit, I am far from the freshman days of alcoholism, where Chris and I used to go through a thirty pack every night (and this carried on for too many years after the year we lived together). Yet, I can still hold my own when it comes to the bottle. The question is if I want to anymore. If I have more than three or four drinks, I do not have the will power to stop myself from drinking myself senseless. And to be honest, it is far and few between, when I stop just after couple. Of course that is when I drink, which is becoming less of a factor in my life anymore. Then there is tonight. Though I could have had more, and was finally out with people who wanted me to drink, I had only one. I had my “required” bar beer, and then was content to sip ice cold Pepsi through a straw the rest of the night, show a girl how to swing dance, and get my ass totally kick in video golf. Sure, sure I am growing up and all that, but since I hate that answer (it is such a copout). So instead of that, I think I will just blame poor old Goob. Ha ha ha ha…
Chris is probably going to have something to say about this, and buddy, your welcome to it. But as friends do wear of on each other, I think sobriety has worn off on me. Well, just a little. I’m far from total control, and I am probably never going to put the bottle down. Cause I like its shape—yeah, um—let’s go with that.
Well, my arms are tired from lifting that heavy, heavy plastic glass all night. Oh, I guess it could have been also from smacking that stupid little ball around did it as well. Surely, it couldn’t have been this long ass diatribe about my tediously boring life that made my arms hurt so much. It had to be the glass of Pepsi. So, I am off to bed. Besides, I have nothing left to share with you all anyway.
Peace out peoples,
-sib-