Sense & Sobriety

#158: Sober Sukaness

We went to The Royal in Coogee yesterday after our 3-hour afternoon lecture. There is really no good excuse for a single person to go straight home on a Friday. There will always be reason to celebrate something - be it that sigh of relief at the end of the workweek or the anticipation of a good weekend. And so I threw my stuff in my locker and told myself I could join the class for drinks.

Thing is, I don't drink. Which would always surprise people. Like, what in the world is wrong with you? It's like having a baby refuse milk! And so, while my classmates downed pitchers and pitchers of fermented barley, I stood and laughed around with them while holding a glass of this strawberry and mint mocktail named, "Dynamite." Kaori, my Japanese classmate, said the other week, "Gladys, you should order this. It's non-alcoholic plus it describes you. Dynamite." Dynamite Dikya sounds good.

Now, I usually get at least three questions per event on why I don't drink and yesterday was no different. I think I'll write my reasons here and just direct people to this site. Heck no. But still, here goes:

1. It's part of my religious convictions
- No, it's not a direct prohibition just like in cults which prohibit you to cut your hair or ban you from eating anything with eyes. The Bible even talks about Jesus turning water into wine. Thing is, the Bible also talks about not getting drunk with wine which leads to debauchery. (Ephesians 5:18). Now, how much will it take to get you to that point? 1 glass? 2 glasses? 1 bottle? 15 bottles? Where do you draw the line? And when the people you teach see you and use you as the barometer for what is acceptable, will you lead them astray?
- In 1 Corinthians 10:23, Paul says, "Everything is permissible but not everything is beneficial. Everything is permissible but not everything is constructive." I do not believe alcohol is beneficial for me. Everytime I see beer, I remember my liver and decide that I would love to keep it. I know there are studies that certain types of alcoholic drinks have health benefits but I think my body will benefit more if I just force myself to eat carrots. (Ech.)

2. It's a personal preference
- Certain occasions would require the opening of a bottle of champagne or wine or whatever - a toast here for the new year or a toast there for the newly-weds. I take a sip in the name of politeness, but I can't say I enjoy the taste or like the smell. The ones I enjoy are the ones that are closest to tasting like Lift or Welch's Grape (Royal Tru-Grape too, why not?) Call me ignorant or uncivilized but given the choice, I'd toast with Coke Zero.

And so, I held on to fancy red drinks throughout the night. If some people can fault me for not drinking alcohol, no one can fault me for being boring with my choice of drinks. This British guy said, "You're such a marketer even in your choice of drinks!" (Uhm. Are you pertaining to my glass of fancy schmancy diva-fied supermarket-quality cranberry juice?) Ah yes.

Towards the end of the night, everyone below 30 was shot out of their brains. It was horrific. Someone peed by the stairs of some building. Another one blabbed about his "escapades" with notable figures in the student circle (completely reducing himself to some dog in my eyes.) There was one who picked up a burrito with his non-existent third thumb and practically threw out the image of coolness he had been projecting since the start of classes. A girl clumsily executed her strategy of getting close to her target guy and ended up looking like a desperate housewife. There was one who sat quietly the whole night only to scrap whatever esteem I held him in by coming up with an indecent proposal. And yet another passed out on the pavement. Sweet.

I miss my old Friday night friends. Fridays shouldn't be this pathetic. It may have been better for me to have gone home early to reminisce about substantial and substantially more enjoyable conversations in cafes in Greenbelt or Rockwell or The Fort... over a beautiful cup of Chai Tea Latte and Mango Pannacotta. Or Tartufo. Or all the poignant non-alcoholic things that Friday nights used to stand for.

Cheers to sense and sobriety!