… one bourbon … one scotch … one beer …
I grew up in Australia, and it seems that I was granted an extra gene as part of my birthright. In Australia this gene is commonplace, but when we up and move to the distant corners of the world, it becomes extremely useful. This gene allows me to drink more than most (especially Seppo’s) and still be fully functional.
Some folks look at me as a bit of a freak in that respect. Some folks just wonder (and hope) if they can ever get me drunk. Some folks just think I’m annoying.
Tonight it was purely a case of wondering why others can’t deal with their nights out like I do. That was what the bouncer asked me when the drunk French guy insisted that the bar still had his credit card. I’d never thought about it from that perspective before. I go into their bar, and I drink quietly and behave myself completely. When they ask me to leave, I leave. I guess I’m the ideal barfly — drink, tip, co-operate.
OK, I’m not exactly a drunk or an alcoholic — I drink very much in moderation, very much under control. I enjoy a beer or two, that’s not in doubt, but I certainly don’t want to become another statistic.
So why do people drink more than they can handle? Why do people go out to drink to get drunk? I’ve never understood that.
I think it was Bill Cosby who said that “it is claimed that alcohol enhances your personality.” He then pondered, “so what if you’re an asshole to begin with?”
I try to not be an asshole to begin with.