It's a pretty well known fact that I don't do well in bars, a fact that I once again proved last night. You see, a bunch of us got together to celebrate a few of the group's birthdays at a trendy restaurant/bar downtown. After about five hours I went outside until Paula was ready to leave. I'm pretty sure that a few in the group came away with the idea that I was pissed at the end of the night. So here are a few reasons I wasn't pissed; at least maybe not for the reasons they think.
1. "I"m sorry, what was that?"
I've always had a real problem hearing in noisy situations. No, it's not me getting old. It's not even overexposure to sirens and air horns. I don't know how to explain it. It's not loud noises. I just can't seem to filter out one sound in a room full of similar sounds; one voice in a room full of shouting voices. I feel myself constantly leaning in and asking someone to repeat themselves. Which gets pretty annoying for me so I can only assume it's doubly annoying for the person that I keep mindlessly nodding and smiling at. Not to mention the fact that the constant noise begins to get to me. My leg starts to nervously bounce and I eventually clench my jaw resulting in a raging headache.
2. "None for me, thank you."
I don't drink. Never have. Never will. Lot's of people know that about me. Unfortunately a lot of them probably think that I don't enjoy bars because I don't agree with drinking. And twenty years ago that used to be the way I thought. But now? Well, now I really don't have a problem with drinking (the non-alcoholic variety.)
There was a moment many years ago when I decided I was going to take a drink. I remember thinking that my life would be a little easier if I did. Not because I might use alcohol to cancel out any aspect of my life. No, it really was just a desire to fit in. And apparently that was the moment when I became okay with the idea of drinking. It was like lifting a weight off of my psyche. I never did take a drink, but it was a real sea change in my thinking. It sounds a little stupid, I guess, but that's how it happened.
So, the problem now isn't an objection to alcohol as a substance. No, the problem is that as a twelve year old I made a promise to the man upstairs not to ever drink. The promise went something like "I promise to never drink if everything in my life goes okay." Sure it sounds kind of like a stupid promise, but I've kept my end of the deal. And so has he. If I was to start drinking and something bad happened to Paula or the boys, I wouldn't ever forgive myself.
I don't sit in bars and obsess over some of the unpleasant things about my life that were directly related to alcohol use. Instead I find myself full of regret; regret I ever made that promise. You see, I love my wife and will do just about anything for her, except take a drink. So a night in a bar leaves me feeling very inadequate as a husband and friend. I can't be that guy for my wife. And the longer the night goes on the more angry with myself I get. After that, anyone kidding with me about taking a drink, no matter how innocent the joke, doesn't strike me as funny. It's more like salt in the wound. The end result is that I'm pretty pissed off with myself and just no fun.
3. "Isn't there a Surgeon General's warning about those?"
Cigarettes seem to have a cumulative effect on my mood. At first I can tolerate them pretty well, but in a bar it doesn't take long before I've reached my tolerance. The bar last night was even on a second story patio with a really good breeze. But somehow all I could smell was the cigarette smoke. That with the constant noise just overloads my senses.
4. "Really, I'm okay."
Rather than ruin the mood of the party by staying, I often I end up leaving the immediate area. I get out of the noise and smoke to let my senses off the hook for a while. Invariably what happens is friends start to try and get me to return which inexplicably annoys me. I know they mean well, but I really just want to "decompress."
In conclusion, This entry isn't me looking for pity. Not at all. I've made my choice and am willing to live by it. But that doesn't make it any less hard or irritating for me. So, if any of my friends from last night, or previous nights out, are reading this I sincerely hope that I didn't significantly dampen the mood. I did have a good time for as long as I had a good time. Sorry I left without saying goodbye to all of you.
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I think you are wonderful! It was great to talk at the party.
ReplyDeleteNo apologies or explanations ever needed here. As you know, outside of a few times I could count on the fingers of one hand, I didn't drink socially until I was almost 30 and took a lot of sh*t for it. I didn't make a promise, but I was trying to make a point, which was basically that I wasn't going to be anything like the drunks and druggies I grew up with. Once I felt the point was made, the teetotalling became kind of meaningless. I never questioned your reasons for not drinking but always assumed there was some principle behind it and that was enough. So let me know which middle-aged jackass is still hung-up on getting you to take a drink and I'll... aid them in rethinking their position. (Unless it's your wife, in which case she's not a jackass and you're on your own.)
ReplyDeleteAs someone who has yet understand why people go to a place to hang out when no one can hear what anyone's saying (Like you, I literally cannot hear people in bars), not to mention the fact that everyone goes home smelling like Keith Richards which, like you, literally makes me nauseous, I too feel like an outsider to the Vices crowd.
ReplyDeleteThe toughest part of all this is that I, too, am labeled anti-social when the truth is the exact opposite. I love hanging out with people. I just wish that's what I COULD do. But all I'm LEFT doing is sitting there staring at a neon Budweiser sign while I wait for my wife to finish her sixth "last drink."
I'd much rather do what you do and take myself out of the equation because, like you, I don't wanna be Mr. Killjoy (or even Count Killjoy von Wetblanket, which does sound cool). And while Budweiser signs ARE intoxicatingly hypnotic, I don't define staring at one all night as a good time.
It makes me wonder: Whatever happened to a bunch of people sitting around at someone's place? It's cheaper, it's quieter, it smells better and no one gets left out. Plus, it comes with a place to crash built right in! My place has this wonderful shed out back. It's very chic.
To that end, everyone is invited to O'Greenstein's Pub here in Charlotte any time you want. Only 2 rules: 1. Smoke outside. And 2. No one leaves without singin' the blues.*
*For those who got the Adventures In Babysitting reference, give yourself 100 points.
I have always admired your ability to not cave. Sure, I have always secretly wanted to have a beer with you. But I have also wanted the ability to fly. Seriously, I have never thought it anything other than a strong showing of the character I have always known you to have. I'm sure it feels to you that, at times, it is almost like a circus sideshow. "Come see the man who doesn't drink!" GASP!! But to be honest...I don't give it a second thought. If you have your reasons...whatever they may be...as your friend, that's good enough for me. Period. Strong character and honoring a promise are certainly things everyone should be compelled to support.
ReplyDeleteThat being said...I am often prone to display general jackassery at any given moment. Hence, the text message during decompression. But, in my defense, I have always been a jackass. Sober...drinking...whatever. I'm an equal opportunity offender. Hello. My name is Doob & I'm a jackass. (Hi Doob!) It's what I do. That & sarcasm are my superpowers. It's what got me kicked out of the Super Friends. It certainly was not intended to be a commentary on anything other than one guy giving his close friend "the business."
Jackassery is a slippery slope. Particularly in the wee hours. Unfortunately, there's no existing technology to gauge the proper amount of jackassiness. If someone could invent the Jackassometer, I'd be appreciative.
It was Doobie? Bad Doob, no speak! Noooo, no speak. BAD DOOB!
ReplyDeleteAnd here I thought I was the only one who had a rough time at bars. After about two hours of breathing in smoke and yelling at the top of my lungs, I simply lose my voice. And it doesn't come back for a day or two.
Honestly, I intended this post as more confessional/apology than indictment. I wasn't really reading the text messages and I didn't pay any attention to who was sending them. Sorry 'bout that.
ReplyDeleteI wasn't trying to call anyone out.
Honestly, I intended this post as more confessional/apology than indictment. I wasn't really reading the text messages and I didn't pay any attention to who was sending them. Sorry 'bout that.
ReplyDeleteI wasn't trying to call anyone out.
*For those who got the Adventures In Babysitting reference, give yourself 100 points.
ReplyDeleteI finally got a reference in a Keith/Bill conversation.
Wait. Your post wasn't about me? The comments aren't about me? No. Really?
My response was a confession. Pure & simple. I even commented that night after i did it: "That was a little sh*tty of me, wasn't it?"
ReplyDeleteI never thought you were calling anyone out. I'm an enough to call myself off for my jackassocity.
PS: If you haven't noticed, I'm branding new ways of saying I'm a jackass. T-Shirts to follow.
Mr. Doob,
ReplyDeleteI don't ever text and it only occurred to me moments ago that they were still in my phone. All you asked in your text was "What's up." No harm there. Not even a tickle. Let yourself off the hook.
You are all good friends. Thank you for so many years (I'm toasting you all with imaginary liquor.)
Sorry it's taken me so long to respond, I've been in a drunken stupor for several days and just now saw this. :)
ReplyDeleteBill, you know that I love you even if you don’t drink. I’ve said that to you but I should probably also say that to the crowd reading this blog. And you are not a drag, but a grumpy old man who is hard of hearing and intolerant of crowded, smoky places… and we love you for that. Now we’ve added “cajoling via text” to the list of “don’ts”. Hard to keep up, but thankfully I’ve compiled a list on my blog for all to reference.
Never fret about the drinking, there are so many other bothersome possibilities… like blogging about how much your wife drinks… bless your heart. As for the texts, I would have sent one too if I knew how to do it. It was a well-intended gesture from your friends to come play some more. No one meant any harm and it is doubtful you dampened the mood.
Now isn’t this nice? Don’t all husbands and wives communicate like this? If and when (probably when) we have a therapist, they will be proud. :)
Love you to pieces,
Paula
wait.
ReplyDeletePaula has a blog?
I am suddenly afraid.