Contrary to what most people think,Christmas is not a
good time for alcoholics and drunkards,in fact,along with
New Years Eve and St. Patricks day it becomes part of
a trinity of nightmares that no self-regarding drunkard
ever wishes to participate in.Just to clarify things here,
I have never discovered whether I am an alcoholic or
a drunkard,and in truth I suppose what I am is a
functioning alcoholic,meaning that when I was good at
it,I would daily consume copious pints of lager,get into
a second bottle of Black Bush (Shirley Bassey as we
called it ) and still go to work at 5.30 A.M.All this proves
nothing,of course,only my credentials and is nothing to
boast about.
A lot of civilians ( non-alcoholics ) would assume that we
are party animals but while we are sociable creatures,we
are far from party animals as this can be disruptive to
our drinking patterns.One of the most pleasurable times
of the day for drinking is the mid-morning drink in the
local,surrounded by fellow alkies all in the same boat.
This is not to be confused with getting a cure as this will
have been accomplished much earlier,probably at home,
but some less practised alkies may use this time for
curing themselves.Indeed it is one of the simple
pleasures of life to watch a "member " rattle into the
bar,speechlessly implore the barman for his "usual "and
then two-handedly try to nurse the violently vibrating
bevvy to his quivering lips,him trying to act normal,you
trying to act as if you didn't notice.
Such informal gatherings of like-minded and like-
habited people often blossom into a type of lunch-time
club and there is often more business transacted in
such a club as at any of the participants own premises.
This is all fine and dandy during working days when all
the civilians are too busy to interupt the proceedings,but
all this changes at Trinity times when the amateurs
interupt the sanctity of our clubs,daring to bring a
dose of reality into our "don't think we are still in
Kansas "world.They interupt our conversations,take
our seats,distract our barmen and some inconsiderate
bastards even want the telly on for some football
match or even worse,the News.If they wanted to watch
telly,why didn't they stay the fuck at home ?Don't even
get me started on the families coming in,with kids
running riot and bat-eared women taking everything
in while doing mental roll-calls of the damned .
No,we endure,ignore or avoid these holidays like
Vampires avoid daylight,we bide our time and reclaim
what is ours when the rest of the world returns to work.
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7 comments:
Fuck these online open university courses, your posts are some of the most educational on the net.
I've always called St. Patrick's Day and New Year's Eve "amateur nights." When people who don't normally drink decide it'd be a good idea to go out and get pissed. Taking up space and the bartenders' time, then puking on the sidewalk. I now stay home for those, and come up smiling the following weekend.
Welcome to the real world Barbie,
Fair play Andraste,one of our own,
Self denial is also a family trait,Doc.
You’re right about one thing: the bat-eared abilities of all women, even deaf ones.
True story, On holiday plane, coming back, pre takeoff, Mrs Maroon says :
“Oh, they’re going to give the old woman valium”
“What old woman?”
“The old woman up the front of the plane”
“What old woman?”
“The nervous old woman”
“What old woman?”
“She’s had a turn I think, and now she’s going to get valium”
“How do you know?”
“About what?”
“The valium, - everything”
“The stewardess just told her”
Outside on the tarmac a smart ambulance has arrived.
Two whitecoats come on board and give the old woman valium.
We take off.
All this took place 15 - 20 rows ahead of us when I thought I had her full and undivided attention. They don’t miss a fucking trick.
Nice tale Doc.,but what do you mean ONE thing.
I don't want to think about the rest of it.
It is a form of multi-tasking Doc, all women can do it. It is like going into other people's homes. I could tell you where the picture were, what book they had on their shelves, what colour the walls were, what fabric they used on their furniture, curtains etc, and my beau boys would say 'Was there a couch?'
However my brother can tell who's coming from miles away by their car, which I find most strange.
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