I don’t drink. Okay, it’s not so much I don’t drink as I can’t drink. This is a story for another time but the end result is me being diagnosed with a chronic liver disease. Yeah, I know, it’s crazy. I’m a 23 year old female and I don’t drink and I’ve never been drunk. I’ve never woke up hungover, or maybe even still drunk and I’ve never had one too many at the office Christmas party (not all consequences are bad). But I’ve also never got to celebrate all my friends’ birthdays with mojitos at a lounge or caesars on a patio. It also makes it so I remember most of my nights at the bar, and I also get to tell my friends all their antics and bright ideas from the night before. I don’t get tricked by beer goggles or blurred vision- so when I wake up the next morning he’s as hot as he was the night before. Hallelujah. Yeah, I feel isolated from my entire peer group sometimes but I get over that and move on because really, there are drunk boys who think I’m pretty. So I go out with my friends- but, sober. I know, I’m nuts, but I can explain.
I was diagnosed with Autoimmune Liver Disease when I was eleven. Luckily at that age Diet Coke was still a popular option amongst my peers. However, come grade nine when all my friends started stealing their parents’ coolers and wines, I was still grabbing the soft drinks (and have stayed drinking Diet Coke ever since). But what was I supposed to do? Stay at home when all my friends were going out? Or go out with them but be sober? It ends up- I love going out sober as much as Lindsay Lohan loves going out
on blow drunk. I wheel my way into free Diet Cokes and make a habit out of people watching and ensuring I pick up on little things that happen across the bar. I love to dance and I love being around so many people. I am a sober bar star but don’t be mistaken- I make this shit look easy.
You’ll think I’m drunk. I swear. I talk too loud and too fast. I run around the club with my friends yelling about our favourite songs and dancing all over the place. You’ll think I’m a bitch for declining your offer of a drink but I’d rather you think that than have to admit I really want a Shirley Temple (HOW GOOD THOUGH!?) and then have to explain all this medical stuff. Nothing kills a good bar buzz like the mention of major health issues. So I let you think I’m a bitch, plus if you were hot enough I would have made something work. You’ll also think I’m hungover because of my raspy voice which consistently sends the “I got minimal hours of sleep last night and finished a 26er of Smirnoff before 11pm ” vibe. Great.
The good shit that I get out of all this? Well an almost challenge to myself to have a better time than everyone else at the club. I’m spending much less money and remembering my night. So I want to make a story. I go out with the intention of making sure I make my night memorable, and with a mindset like that, anything can happen.