Memorable Moments in an Alien World











{June 16, 2012}   Catch 22

I enjoy wine. Reds (Merlot, especially) are my favorite.

I also enjoy Coke. Nay, I love Coke and over the years have (rightly, I surmise) ignored the insurmountable number of emails from Coke-haters admonishing me on the evils of Coke (mind you, we are speaking of Coca-Cola – and NOT the original recipe, if you know what I mean). Coke rots your teeth. It’s bad for your stomach. It dissolves pennies. Cops use it to clean up blood on the road after a really bad accident. Blah, blah, blah. Eh, I digress…(but if you DO want to know what Coke can do: The Many Uses of Coke)

I enjoy many different beverages, but have noticed that I apparently become quite conspicuous in an after-work social setting if I choose NOT to drink alcohol. That being said, I attempt to fiercely hold on to my independence and free-will to drink what I want, not what is expected.

However, I will often have a drink just to appease my co-workers.

I recently did this on one such occasion and enjoyed my drink immensely. So much that I had one more. But that was it. Work parties contain enough tumultuous issues. I don’t need to add inebriation to the equation. So I was standing around, taking part in the most awkward, uncomfortable conversation in my life with virtual strangers, when one of my co-workers came up to me and questioned, “Hey!!! Where’s your drink Amanda? Don’t you drink?” As if it would be a trespass if I said I did not.

I smiled and said, “I already had two and that’s my limit!” and laughed. My co-worker just looked around and said, “We have to get another drink in your hand!”

There’s an odd dichotomy in work-parties and drinking that I have come to terms with. This is how it shakes out for me:

  • I’m damned if I drink (allowing something else to control me) and
  • I’m damned if I don’t drink (I have faced SO very many probing questions from co-workers when a drink is absent from my hand)

It all causes me to wonder: what is the magical draw of it all? What makes my co-workers actively conspire to get me smashed (for I can name five off the top of my head who at every interaction imply that they hold future plans to attempt to intoxicate me)? Why is my choice to drink or not such a big deal to those around me?

Next work party this shall be my smuggled-in drink of choice: Cobra Snake Whiskey.

If you think I’m joking, I cordially invite you to my next work party. It will be infamously unforgettable.



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