Nope

There’s a reason I don’t hang out in bars. 

In my life I have done a great deal of drinking. You can look up the average standard drink measures per country and look to their individual health department’s guidelines on what would constitute an alcoholic and this used to be what would constitute a regular unremarkable Tuesday evening for me. It was never a challenge to drink a whole bottle of wine before anything else was to happen that evening. This was a starting point and in no way reflective of the imbibing to come.

I drink much less these days. Fairly irregularly, even. I never miss it when I’m not drinking and I feel extremely blessed in this regard. So many are not as fortunate in this regard and have a tougher time stopping or cutting back. I have my issues in other areas so please don’t fret. It absolutely evens out in the end.

But sometimes I just need a drink. And last night was one of those times. Left feeling empty and unassured after an experience with a person my mind drifts to the old and familiar. This is absolutely nothing that alcohol cannot address. The cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems. Many thanks to Homer for the sentiment. Though he is possibly not the greatest example of how to maintain a drinking habit.

I want to drink and I don’t want to go to a lot of effort to do it and I don’t want to drink by myself at home so I make the adult decision to go to a bar. A cursory glance from the outside reveals there to be a small crowd inside which at 1am is just what I’m looking for. I want to have my drink in relative comfort but not complete solace. I walk inside. The person standing at the door asks for my identification. It’s very nice of you to ask and I certainly would never fool myself into believing that I look even questionably close to being 21 years old but I appreciate the ruse.

The first test passed, I enter through a small doorway into the main bar area. This place is popping off, but not in any way that is interesting to me. There are a number of people but the number of them who look like they wish to talk to me is zero. I don’t know this for a fact but I know it to be true. I have spent such an amount of time in bars that I can safely trust my instincts. The thing that gets me the most is the music. Quarter past 1 now and the jukebox or whatever spotify playlist this establishment operates from is blaring the only Eiffel 65 song that you know. I know it too and while I appreciate an arpeggiated melody this is absolutely not what I’m looking for to accompany this particular late night excursion.

One thing that I value heartily is my ability to change my mind. Some might feel a tinge of guilt walking into a bar and then walking right back out again but not me. I even take it a step further. The barkeep is attentive and notices me. “What are you having?” Fine eyes accustomed to the dark, spotting me amongst the din. “I’m thinking” I reply back. And I was. Thinking of getting the hell out of there. Which I do. Immediately stepping past the person I had to identify myself with on the way in. Not a word spoken to them. Out into the night. And what do you know. I feel much better. Why would that be? I think I just learned of one more thing that I didn’t want to be doing and this was an advancement. I make my way home happy that I didn’t discount the chance at an experience, and I didn’t compromise for something I wouldn’t have enjoyed anyway. Another bar at another time.