It’s no secret that I am a mid-week party girl. Mainly due to the press events and launch parties that I get invited to, I am out at least two nights on weekdays at a venue that has, every time, a free bar. It’s fantastic and I am not moaning at all, but my problem here lies in what happens after I consume aforementioned free liquor.
As a female with ample emotions, whenever I am ‘tipsy’ the mood I am in beforehand gets heightened tenfold. If I am happy, I’d be running around the venue talking to anyone and everyone, but if I am sad…well then shit hits the fan. At first I’ll be sipping champs thinking ‘this is making me feel much better’ until I get to the point of no return and all those inner crap feelings come out flowing faster than the waiter pours the bubbles.
But worse than this, for me alcohol might as well be Veritaserum. It literally forces the truth out of me about everything and anything. To be exact, the truth when it comes to men. If I think he’s an arrogant tosser – he’ll be told. If I think I am in love with him – he’ll be told. Now, the latter is much more problematic because if I’ve not actually told him I love him yet, the first time he hears it is when I am wasted. Hardly the height of romance, plus if he doesn’t say it back then out pours even MORE emotions. We’ll come back to this later.
When I am tipsy and on route home from an awesome event, I always think it’s the BEST idea (and why wouldn’t it be?) to text or call the beau and talk about life until he’s asleep or I am home. Sometimes they’re the best phone calls and he’s laughing at my drunken silly behaviour – but that’s only when him and I are good. When we’re arguing / breaking up / post split, it’s horrific. Because, having already been sad prior to the sipping on the bubbly, I am now even more sad and will tell him exactly what I feel. Alcohol, or evil truth potion as I have come to know it, is ruining my dating life. It’s a running joke with my best girls that my phone should have its own breathalyzer and that, when I breathe into it and have clearly had more than 2 units, it shuts down my access to everything. Can someone please invent an app that does this? I’d be a loyal customer for one.
And it isn’t just the conversations that are the problem – I wake up hazed and hungover and have to check my entire phone; Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Whatsapp, Call Logs and start to do some damage control. Pictures get deleted, statuses get removed, tweets deleted, apology texts sent…and I think WTF WERE YOU THINKING LAST NIGHT TO BELIEVE SAYING THAT TO OVER 20K FOLLOWERS WAS A GOOD IDEA! You see, we all know I am an honest one and lack any idea of social boundaries on a daily basis – so when alcohol comes into play this boundary (which I’ve already crossed) isn’t just blurred, it’s non existent.
A previous stellar example of how alcohol is a big fat no-no was when I was dating a Kent dude a few years ago. After we split up, let’s just say I didn’t realize how much it bothered me until I had downed a few glasses of Prosecco at a London event. I didn’t have his digits anymore but unfortunately he had text me in the morning and called so…alas I had the number again.
With the daily long-ass train home I was obviously texting him and whilst I sat in the empty carriage, alone, I remember feeling more alone than I’ve ever felt (they do say being in busy London can make you feel more lonely than ever before). It doesn’t help that I always go back to my apartment, alone, and wake up, alone. Do you get the drift? I’m on my own. Which means no-one is around to vet my actions or say “Trixie Nixie, step away from the phone”. So, in my ‘wallowing in self-pity of being alone and sad he left’ state, I told him I was in love with him. Yep. Yep I went there. Few issues with this as I’m sure you’ve already worked out:
1) I hadn’t actually told him sober I was in love with him.
2) I wasn’t in love with him – or was I? Maybe I was. Can’t even remember now.
3) We broke up because he didn’t want commitment so, saying ‘I love you’ wasn’t gonna change shit.
Guys don’t seem to have such problems with the alcohol Veritaserum. In fact, when they’re pissed, they do the total opposite and go off radar. They magically miss all your calls and texts, and ‘forget’ what happened that night or why they woke up in Faversham. Guys don’t have that ‘need’ to want to call up their partners when they’re drunk and spiel out a load of feelings – they’re too busy probably seeing who can punch a door the hardest or who can pull that fat minger in the corner, or whatever it is dudes do when they’re drunk. Fucked if I know. All I know is they become a Mars probe and go off radar until they are sober again, and then you get the morning text, which, compared to me, seems like the more appealing option.
And so, in an attempt to avoid telling the shelf-stacker at my local Off License that I love him at 11pm, I am stepping away from the alcohol. I’ll happily still have my girly nights out at weekends where I am with other humans who can tell me it’s a fucking bad idea to instagram that photo of me in the middle of a rugby team (for example). At weekends I’m usually too busy dancing until the early hours and then I’m crashed out in my bed so, this somewhat avoids all the conversation and the regret in the morning. It’s going to be tough to ask for a juice at a free bar but, for the sake of my relationships with men and human beings in general, it’s something I need to at least give a trial run. Oh and I know I’m not the only one sitting on this shelf – it’s the reason ‘Coyote Ugly’ was coined. I’m just one of the few willing to admit that I can be a drunken nightmare *understatement*.
