That’s right, being a drunk is fun, you get to meet all these great people at the bar. You hang out with them, you love them, they become part of your life. If you don’t see them, you miss them, more than the booze. I’m not an alcoholic for the beer, the bar is where my friends are. The people I love. The people that get me through good and bad times. The people that give me silly ideas, thoughtful comments and insight.
That’s great, right? You think someone’s going to hand me my grandchild if I’ve been drinking. I won’t even be able to make it for the delivery. Can’t hear the phone in a drunken stupor. (I love Toronto’s old Mayor Ford, he was hysterical.)
I won’t be asked to babysit.
I won’t be asked for drives to hospitals late at night during an emergency.
I won’t be expected to wake up for anything (drunken stupor), and no one will try and count on me.
No drives anywhere, no emergency late night phone calls. No expectations or rules to speak of.
“Can I get a pitcher?”
“Hell no, the big one”
(Know this is a work of fiction and my kids can count on me anytime, they just don’t call) (bam, guilt!!!!!)