Smashed: Thoughts on Drunkenness

I’m what you would call a casual drinker. I like my beer (Bud’s the one for me). I like my jack and coke (usually when I’m out at a restaurant or bar). However, I’ve never been drunk. I’ve been “buzzed” a couple times, whatever that means. The most memorable moment was when I had just driven five hours to D.C., hadn’t had anything to eat, went down to the hotel bar and while I waited for the rest of the group to arrive, had a jack and coke that was one part coke, seventeen parts jack. Even then I was completely coherent and in full control of my motor functions.

All of this is to say that I don’t see the point of getting wasted. I never have. I have no problem with drinking. I drink. I enjoy it. I enjoy having drinks with friends, and with family.

Here’s the thing: I have never heard a single story from anyone that involved getting drunk and something beneficial happening. Ever.

I’ve heard countless stories of drunken endeavors. People puking on themselves. People doing something stupid with a married person. Drunken hookups with strangers. Getting DUI’s after leaving a party to go to a bar. Getting lost and nearly getting raped. On and on and on I could go. Nothing good ever happens.

But that’s the stereotype, isn’t it? People have these nights, and then they tell their friends about them the next morning with these mixed tones of regret/pride. I think maybe that’s the thing I hate most about all these stories I hear: the fake tones of regret when really all these people are doing is bragging. They act like it was the dumbest night of their lives, but really they wear these stories like badges of honor, and then the next weekend they go out and do it all over again.

And it’s not just the stories I hear, it’s the things I see. On several occasions I’ve been out with friends and people in the group get wasted, and it’s not fun anymore. People get hurt, feelings get hurt, fights are started, relationships end over stupidity. You have the people who get crazy sensitive and inevitably something is said to hurt their feelings and they go sulk. You have the meat-heads, who are short on brains already; throw alcohol into the mix and you have a recipe for fights/cheating, which then creates a spin-off disaster of angry girlfriends and peripheral chicks. You have the people who can’t hold their liquor and get sick in random places and end up having to be dragged through the rest of the night.

In short, when people get drunk, it ruins the evening. It’s divisive.

I’m a pretty chill person. I like to relax, hang out, have a good time. I don’t mind things getting a little crazy, or loud, or spontaneous. That’s great. That’s what friends are for. But when people get pissed off/stupid/horny with the wrong person/angry/hurt, it’s a bad evening for everyone involved. Most of this could be avoided if people just didn’t feel the need to rely on booze to have a good time.

I have a great time with my friends and I don’t need to be out-of-my-mind plastered to do it. That’s not really friendship. I have nothing to prove. I don’t need to go home with a story about how hammered I got and the stupid things I did as a result. I’d much rather go home with my memory, friendships, and dignity intact. I can make memories with my friends without getting drunk, and at the end of the night, at the end of my life, those are the times I’m going to look back on fondly.

I have enough regrets as it is. Real regrets. Regrets that came naturally, not by stupid decisions due to being wasted. Hard-won regrets that came at a price and offered a lesson. Regrets of which I am not proud. I don’t need to create more by being stupid. My mistakes are real. They’re the stuff life is made of.

I’m not going to drink my weekends, my feelings, my friendships, or my life, away.