Let’s meet for a drink.
Five words and an apostrophe. Five simple words. And oh the stories they could tell.
Alcohol comes in two kinds: there is the social lubricant that breaks down the natural reticence. Then there is the firewater that turns you into someone else completely. That person wakes up in strange beds with strangers, or finds themselves apologizing for unprovoked arguments or saying stuff that cannot be taken back.
Let’s think of it as regret in a glass.
The trick with booze is knowing that the very reason we like it – when on a date, for instance – is that it helps us mesh with the other person. It creates a small, chemically enhanced world.
But if we begin to reveal much more about ourselves than we might otherwise, or our behavior loosens too much, trouble can find you. There is a line beyond which it is clear you probably shouldn’t order just one more, but it is visible only to the sober.
Which is not to say drinking is all bad, because it’s not. And the only thing that counts is whether it is bad for you. Or the person you’re with.