I never thought I would say this, but I really think I’m getting old.
Before all you old geezers out there start rummaging your refrigerator for out of date food to throw at me, hear me out first.
I started clubbing at 15 and when I finally reached legal age, I abruptly stopped because at that time I was blinded by puppy love and thought nothing could beat hanging out with the boyfriend.
Then, when I turned 21, he dumped me mercilessly. Therefore, I dusted my dancing shoes and put on my party clothes weekend after weekend and tried to make up for lost time.
This continued for a good four years or so but slowly, the frequency dwindled because the older crowd I hung out with decided to do responsible, adult-like things like getting married and popping babies.
Fast forward to the present and my drinking partners barely make up one hand. Très sad.
Anyhows, a large part of me still thinks I’ll be up for a party any day because once you admit that you feel old, that’s it. You can now prepare to move into a nursing home.
Until a couple of days back. I have these two male friends whom I have known since I was 15. From what I can remember, we’ve always drank together. From juvenile class barbecue sessions to breakups to celebrations to birthdays, we always drink. We even have an official, not very mature name for ourselves- the Drunk Boys Club (DBC).
I know what some of you are thinking. What?! Do they think they are still 12? Might as well call themselves Famous Five or Hardy Boys or Nancy pamby Drew. But I love these boys, so snort and giggle all you like. Maybe we’ll change our name when we finally grow up.
Back to DBC. It is an unspoken tradition that we meet up during birthdays to drink till someone passes out. No, we’re not sadists, it’s all in the name of fun. And we also keep score of the number of times who is the drunk of the night. We also revel in taking photographic evidence of said drunk and post them up. As I’m typing this, I really feel it’s time we grow up lol.
So far, I’m very proud to say my score board is clean. Yes, I outdrink them every single time. So far.
Now, the last time I drank in copious amounts was in June. In fact, I have not been drinking much since then. We are meeting up
next weekend for my birthday and I’m honestly scared. Just like in sports, without practice, you are as good as dead.
First of all, I don’t want to be the concussed one because I’m very sure the two skinny boys will not be able to carry
a whale me home. Then there’s the issue of face. I want to retain my perfect score!
Perhaps if I start practising now, I might be ok next week. I never felt like this before, being afraid of alcohol. In fact, I always call Martell my bff.
So there you have it. The only reason must be me getting old. Time to check out retirement homes.
And now, you can throw rotten food and jeer at me.