So when I was 28 years old (1994), an incident that resulted in six cops pointing their guns at me convinced me that it was time to quit drinking. So I did. I was sober (a teetotaler) until New Year’s Eve, 2006. I had a glass of champagne at midnight to welcome in 2006. A few months later I had a shot of Johnny Walker Red Label to celebrate/mourn my 40th birthday. A couple months later I had a couple more shots just for the hell of it. Around Thanksgiving and Christmas, I shared a couple glasses of wine with my sisters.
Today, February 8, 2007, I got a bug up my butt. I felt an overwhelming urge to go out and get drunk. And I did it.
I left my house around 9:00 PM, and stopped at the convenience store where I purchased a 24 oz. bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. I put this in the trunk of my car. Then I headed to my bank where I withdrew $40 from the ATM. My next stop was the bar where I played my first professional gig back when I was 22.
As soon as I walkeed in I was greeted by a short guy with a shaved head who spotted my shaved head and decided that was reason enough to buy me a drink. So I started with a shot orf bourbon and a bottle of MGD (I see they’ve changed the bottle since the last time I had one of these). One more beer made tonight the first time I’d had three drinks in a row in a very long time. I was on my way to drunk.
Now, this was a place where I had spent a few evenings drinking O’Doul’s, so the karaoke box still had my song request slips in it. I sang those, and then tried to figure out what I should sing next. The beautiful bartender was new to me, so I asked what she wanted to hear. She wanted to hear Extreme’s song, “More Than Words”, so I said I’d give it a shot. I’ve heard the song before, but it’s been ten or more years ago. But I can remember those beautiful harmonies, so I agreed to give it a shot. I faked my way through it, and I apparently did a reasonably satifactory job.
I also met a beautiful girl, and her dad too. She was a pretty good singer, so I persuaded her to sing that Kid Rock/Sheryl Crow song, “Picture” with me. You see, I heard that song done wretchedly by one coupkle after another over the last few years. usually it’s a woman who can sing the song who drags her boyfriened up there, and she sings the woman’s part and then he butcher’s the man’s part. Or vicey versey. Either way, it’s usually painful to listen to. But this girl could sing, I and I can sing, so I thought we could pull it off. Unfortunately closing time came up before we could do it. But I had a nice talk with her dad after closing time. Found out her dad’s only two years younger than my dad, which is funny because she’s two years younger than my “baby” sister. Her dad thought it was cool that I thought his daughter was beautiful, but I found out from him that she’s sorta married, and I don’t fool with that kind of thing which I rtolds him and he thought that was cool and we had a nice talk.
So now I’m home (alone … og, I haven’t beeen laid in 11 years) and I’ve polished off that bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade and I shoud probably put my ass to bed pretty soon. It’s 4:05 AM now.
Oh, I also got to help defuse a bad situation. The shaved-head guy who bought my first drinks started shit with a great big guy and got his ass thrown out, and would have started more shit if I hadn’t helped to calm him down and send him on his way. He gave me a few dollars to give to the beautiful bartender (I did pass them along as per his instructions) and then he went on his way. I know from past experience that I have this weird calming effect on belligernt people, and this was helpful in this situation. If I would have been sober, I would have stayed out of it and he would have got his ass beat, so it’s good I was drunk tonignt 
Fuck. I’m going ot bed.