Tuesday, March 16, 2004

Drinking, smoking, and falling down...

Anyone who knows me, knows I like to drink. I like to drink to excess. I like to drink until the world is at a tilt and my words are on wheels running down a steep slope and I can't feel my fingertips.

I like to drink.

I'm thinking that's going to happen this Friday. If you get a chance, you should join me. Otherwise, I'll drink alone. (Yeeeaaaa, with nobody else!)

My career in drinking started many years ago. I think I can pinpoint it around my 17th year, back when I had amnesia and my life was falling apart. Yes, during my first nervous breakdown. Back then, or so Tim (up in Oregon) told me, I'd drink from a mini-bottle of Tanquaray (could've been Gilbey's - it's been a while - but I know it was gin, shockingly) and smoke Jitanay's (which is how the brand sounds but not how it's spelled - they're French). Later, by a year or so, I'd switched to scotch, a switch that was to last for over a decade.

I was never really a beer person. I've always been more of a wine person. Cabernet Sauvignon - can't beat a good one. Right now, I have about half a dozen bottles of wine at home.... waiting.... I may decorkify one of those bad boys Friday night.

A couple of years ago, I learned the joys of martinis... and there's been no looking back. Martinis are now my drink of choice: vodka and very dry. When Tim comes up from San Diego, he makes apple martinis or watermelon martinis. There's no way to get them dry but we drink them just the same. And we don't drink one or two of them. We drink pitchers of them, four of five of them!

And we smoke. And we smoke. And we smoke. Mostly, we smoke cigarettes (Camels, mostly). Sometimes, I'll enjoy a cigar. (Not being an aficionado, I can't begin to tell you what kind. It varies.) I've grown bored of pot so that's out... for now. (Let's not get hasty.)

I smoke because it goes with alcohol like ice and cream, like peanut and butter, like boring blog and My Side... I smoke because it helps the booze find that part of my brain that allows everything to shut down and allows me to pass out and allows me to stop hurting for just a little while.

I smoke because I lost Rosa.

I smoke because I don't have any reason not to.

And, hey, why not have a drink with that?

If I don't open a bottle of wine, all I've got is scotch. Not a bad alternative. Scotch hits you in the chest like a big, bearded, Scottish friend you haven't seen in a while. You know, after a while, you get used to it.

So, that's it. Tuesday afternoon and I have the plan for Friday night. Now, you're probably asking yourself why a good-looking, talented, intelligent, all-around nice guy can't go out and get himself a date for Friday night - why he ends up alone. Well, that's another reason why I smoke.

Now, where's my drink?

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