I’ve decided that I really don’t want to be in close proximity to drunk people anymore, unless they’re good friends. I one of my friends invited me out for a drink on Friday night. I really don’t drink anymore, but I decided to come out because I didn’t have anything better to do.
So I arrive at the bar. She’s there with 4 guys I’ve never met before, already piss drunk. She’s the only one who’s mostly sober. She introduces me to them and mentions that they’re not good buddies, just guys she goes out drinking with. Fine then. They stand there guzzling beer for about half an hour, and then decide to go get something to eat. So we head out. While walking, one of the guys attempts to put his arm around me. I squirm away and stay away. A few minutes later, another one of the guys, who with each drink was increasingly vocal and less intelligible, starts trying to put moves on me. He tells me he likes my coat, then he says he likes my hair, then he gives me what I’m guessing was a meaningful look, and says thickly, “I haf to tell you. You are a butiful wuman.” The breath that accompanies these words is one of the most revolting smells I’ve experienced in awhile.
Yeah. I bet if I’d turned him around 180 degrees he would have said the exact same thing to the mailbox over there. Everything’s beautiful after 12 beers.
So then he starts pawing at my hair, and then he takes my hand and tries to kiss it. That’s when I shake him off and tell my friend that I gotta go because it’s getting late and I have to work the next day. I went home and took a long long shower.
Yeah, I’m that person. It’s one of the reasons I don’t go out and get drunk in public; everything’s beautiful and I love everyone. If I’m with good friends, it’s all good. But with strangers, not so much.
Yeah, I didn’t know anything about these guys besides their names. So I was pretty uncomfortable having them try to charm me, and even more uncomfortable with them trying to touch me. It didn’t help that they reeked of booze and sweat. The inward crawling feeling I got was probably not unlike what you’d get if a pile of maggots touched your hand or something.
I met a guy recently at a friends party who decided on the ride home (I was sober, and he most definitely was not), that even thought we just met, we were destined to be best buddies for all eternity. This decision was based on the fact that all of the other people at the party were wankers, and that we were astrologically compatible.
The funny thing? 4 of the 5 of us at the party were Gemini’s. He was the only one who wasn’t.
The drive home was replete with the stereotypical comments like:
“Even though we just met, I feel like you are a brother to me. What’s your name again?”
And:
“How could you drive this Mercury POS? Why don’t you get a Ford?”
and finally:
“Can you drop me off at the bar, and see if I can get a woman? If I don’t, can you drive me home?” (Like I’m going to hang out and see if he manages to get through the doorway, much less finds a woman who will put up with a drunk enough to take her home.)
It was amusing to watch, but I’m glad I’m not female. He might never have let me out of his sight.
We had a drunk friend (who has since sobered up thanks to diabetes) who would drop trou on top of one of those little cocktail tables at the bar and sing Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of his lungs. HAVE ANOTHER BEER, DAVID! You’re getting more attractive by the minute!!!
Although I like going to bars–preferrably when they’re not shoulder to shoulder with patrons–count me in with those who have a limited tolerance for drunken idiocy. I know my limits and stay within them–typically well within–but being around people who have not only exceeded the limit but who have actually achieved escape velocity from the bounds of acceptible behavior is discomfiting to say the least. I have a coworker (and unfortunately, neighbor) who not only insists on “getting smashed” but demands that I follow suit, and then gets pissed off when I switch to club soda after two or three drinks. I guess he’s trying to relive those great frat boy memories or something, but needless to say I don’t go drinking with him except on infrequent (and generally regrettable) occasions.
The story in the OP makes me wince in embarassment…but I’ve heard worse. Much, much worse.
What you are experiencing is what we in the business call “not staying in the window”. There’s a window you want to stay in where you are drunk enough to be loose, friendly and relaxed but not where you are a sloppy drunken mess that’s repulsive to women. You want to keep up a pace where if you are too sober, everyone is irritating but if you are too drunk, you make an ass of yourself.
A lot of guys, especially younger ones (who apparently don’t have to wake up for work in the morning) and even guys into their 30s will just drink as much as they can as fast as they can with no regard for pacing themselves. That’s why I can stay out until 5:00am while we have 23 year old guys here at work who pass out at the party before midnight. It’s not a race people. Amazon Floozy Goddess, you don’t sound like much of a floozy if you aren’t even willing to make out with a drunk dude in a bar.
Internet add: “Are you tired of the singles bar scene?”
Homer Simpson: “NEVER!!!”
Heh. My friend mentioned at one point that Loverboy had started drinking around 4pm. It was about midnight when she said this. :eek: So, either he somehow paced himself, or he’s built up a hell of a tolerance. Incerdibly, he could still walk. He was a bleary-eyed mess who couldn’t seem to control the amount of saliva he was producing, though. He also passed on the john in the bar and one of the othe guys had to go get him.
Re: making out with drunk dude - Hey, I’m an Amazon floozy. My standards are slightly more sophisticated. We don’t like 'em drunk, just terrified and hogtied to a roasting spit by my fellow warrior-floozies.
Funny, I’ve been changing my drinking habits over the last six months and am now down to about 3 drinks per week, which is a big change from my three drink per night average from about two years ago. I’ve stopped binge drinking for now, and I suspect that if I do binge-drink again, it would have to be a special occasion, not just “It’s Friday!”
My problem is that my relationships with people are changing because of this. When I hang out with my good friend who lives nearby, she gets really drunk while I stay sober, and I can’t believe I never noticed how fast she gets drunk or how obvious it is. It gets kind of awkward at this point, since I basically end up leaving her to her own devices. I’ve been trying to hang out with her without the emphasis on alcohol, not very successfully. I hate to think our relationship was based on alcohol. I’m still trying, it hasn’t been too long.
The worst part is that I’m experiencing this with my twin. She has a distinct pattern: hibernate at home Sunday through Thursday and then binge drink and party all Friday and Saturday. It’s making it hard to hang out with her since she feels like she’s wasting her weekend if she doesn’t party, but I don’t want to go to a bar or to a party to get drunk with a bunch of people I don’t know. It sucks. I never thought quitting drinking would cause these kind of problems with my closest friends and family. I never realized how much people rely on alcohol to have fun. Including myself until recently.
Anyway, your post just got me thinking.
Some people not only rely on alchohol to have fun, their entire lifestyle revolves around drinking. When I was in college and in my 20s pretty much every activity involved alchohol and lots of it. Every Thurs, Fri and Sat night you get together with a bunch of your pals and either bar hop or camp in one bar for an entire night. Sat and Sun afternoon was spent lounging or wating to go out Sat night.
My friend remarked one time that we didn’t know anyone who actually “did” anything except work and get fucked up in bars. Alchohol creates kind of a false sense of community. It makes everyone seem so much more interesting and attractive.
After a certain age, you kind of go from “hip fun party guy” to “fat drunk loser in a bar who won’t grow up”.
Seriously, my sympathy. I don’t like going out and getting really, really pissed in the first place, and having a random (creepy) stranger hitting on me would be nausea-inducing.
One of the more recent times I’ve gone out drinking, I decided not to get completely hammered, because I just didn’t see the point.
Unfortunately, seeing a whole bunch of drunken morons through near-sober eyes made me wonder why I bothered going out at all. I still have some friends for whom “going out for a drink” means getting fall-off-your-barstool drunk as quickly as possible, and I just can’t go out with them anymore. What’s the point? Once you’re past that “window” (thanks, msmith537), you’re just not having fun anymore. You’re being an obnoxious ass.
