Baby Steps

Typically, towards the end of a work week, my thoughts inevitably drift toward the oncoming Friday and Saturday night activities.

Where will me and the boys go to? Should we start drinking in the house first? Can I afford to catch an afternoon match in town and stay out drinking throughout the evening?

Drink has been deeply embedded in my weekends for as long as I can remember. Any social occasion or weekend meet-up involved booze in some capacity. A day after boozing, was typically a write-off, so Friday's were preferred, so that on a Sunday, some of the weekend could be enjoyed. Bladdered, Cleanse, Repeat as desired (every weekend).

My best intentions to forego alcohol this weekend were not met with staunch criticism from friends. Not surprising, given the time of year. I've lost count of the number of times I've heard people this week mention the word 'detox' with a resolution to 'get off the drink' for January. Friends, family, people on public transport. It seems everyone has the same intention, but the litmus test is always that first weekend. This weekend.

My conviction never wavered for a second. Granted, my staying indoors on Friday night took me out of the line of fire! I reluctantly agreed to join my closest drinking buddy CJ, on Saturday. The prospect of another night in front of the TV bored me.

We met in Temple Bar at 10pm, and over the next 3 hours, went to 5 different pubs. Some, I'd never been to before.

"We were here last month you mug! You were skulled off your bean!" CJ informed me, in his London accent.
"Oh right."

Every pub we went to, I felt compelled to buy a soft drink. Something to hold in my hands out of habit. I must have drank 2 litres of coke in total, and one energy drink, bloating me towards the end.

Strangely, I found myself mildly embarrassed asking for a soft drink at the bar. Self-conscious, I was 'taking up space' in a busy bar, or weak in some way. Looking at the receipt I soon got over that. Pint of coke more expensive than a beer! Alcohol Brigade 1 - Sober Brigade 0.

This was the first time CJ and myself went out sober, in probably 200 nights and 5 years of hanging out.
It was very raw, and we chatted a lot. I think this was probably because we were both slightly outside our comfort zone.

Typical booze related nights out involved us strutting into a club together, 6 pints better (or worse?) off, splitting up within minutes and approaching separate sets of women. Sometimes we'd drop in with each other over the course of the night, depending on how lucky/pissed the other person was.

This night, we clung to each other for dear life! The normally more successful charmer with the ladies and cocky wide-boy CJ, still had his trusty laser sight on, eye-groping everything in sight. Unless it was presented on a plate, there would be no approaches tonight. Meanwhile, I was just battling my internal demons. Painfully self-conscious, and wary of my body language (where do I put my hands?), I tried to elicit some attention from others by catching their eye. I've been weak in the past with eye contact with strangers in clubs. Drinking helped shortcut the internal monologue, and in my primitive mode, I ACTED without thinking. Now I was a prisoner inside my head, and not enjoying the view.

There we stood, by the dance floor with the other wallflowers, trying to look receptive, and interesting, but without the lubrication of alcohol, the cogs just couldn't kick into gear. Impotent.

Daring each other to approach women. Sending furtive glances to women at the bar. Swishing around the ice cubes in a glass. Frequent breaks to the toilet to unburden the coke from our bloated stomachs. Watching the punters at the bar as it grew 3 people deep. Mostly males, frustrated at their lack of success, topping up with some more courage before going back into the battlefield. Watching the same heavy eye-lidded guy approach women around the bar, some of them twice, and shouting into their ear.

It was infinitely much more interesting than watching TV, but ultimately incredibly frustrating. I felt disconnected. Unable to take part in the fun and just LET GO of myself. On the other hand, I was strangely satisfied with having gone out, seeing some new venues in Dublin, having not drank myself stupid and to be in bed clearheaded.

Unfortunately because of the litres of Coke I drank I couldn't get to sleep until about 5am!
Might need to choose another drink for the next night out.