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The Nature of Drinking on a Date

October 22nd, 2006 by Caroline

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Is it wrong to get drunk on a date or before you go on a date? It didn’t matter if the first time I met him he was standing in my neighbor’s room naked drinking a beer at three on a Sunday afternoon. It didn’t matter if the second time I saw him, he told me he had just spent the night in jail after he got a DUI leaving the school parking lot. It didn’t matter if the third time I saw him he was holding a beer, walking, or stumbling rather, on his way to the library, because he was hot and his nick-name was Guns. We started talking via face book, quite possibly the only thing kids of my generation will remember from their last few years of college. He had written on my face book wall, to “stop having a boyfriend.” Flashback: when we first met, I was in a serious long distance relationship with a guy completing his basic training for the army. I’m not white trash, I swear. So when me and Mr. Army broke up six months later, I wrote on his wall, “you are really hot. p.s. no boyfriend now.” And sure enough, a few days later, while I was sitting at my bogus internship, on the internet doing what all interns do while, “working,” he wrote me a nice little, well long rather, message. A month later when he came back to school for our Homecoming weekend, we hooked it up.

We had one phone conversation two days before he came back to Lake Forest, and during that time it was evident, he liked me and I liked him. A romance in the works. Guns flew into town, and a group of us went to our favorite bar, which I am currently forbidden to go to after I got a 19 year-old sorority girl arrested for underage drinking. Note to self: don’t mess with the girl who is fucking the owner of the bar. So we had some drinks and went to bar number two across the street, shared a drunken kiss while no one was looking, and then I brought him back to my dorm room. Classy.

“Medieval Chivalry: From buying a woman dinner to opening a door for her, many of today’s courting rituals are rooted in medieval chivalry… Suitors wooed their intended with seranades and flowery poetry, following the lead of lovelorn characters on stage and in verse. Chastity and honor were highly regarded virtues” (Romance Through the Ages Customs of Love, Marriage & Dating).

The next morning, in my tired hung over state, we drank coffee and chatted and cuddled until noon, and made plans to go out for a real date later that evening. Awesome. He then left to go start drinking, as a way to cure his hang over. A practice I have now adopted myself.

We went to dinner at a small, but romantic Italian place not too far away. Keep in mind, he had been drinking and playing video games with his friends from the time he left my room, until the time he came back to take me to dinner; that is maybe six hours of beer drinking. While waiting for our table, we sat at the bar, where he ordered martini number one. I ordered water, hoping I would be able to keep that in my stomach, or at least to settle my extremely unhappy tummy. He finished the first drink, and proceeded to order another dry vodka martini, and his favorite, expensive, bottle of white wine. Mainly for me. Well, I am a huge sucker for white wine, especially good white wine, so I had a glass. One glass always turns into two, at least for me it does, but I didn’t drink glass number two until we had ordered our dinner.

I was beginning to feel better after some wine. Well, Mr. Martini was feeling excellent as he ordered drink number three just as his appetizer arrived. Throughout the remainder of dinner, he drank two more alcoholic beverages, one of which was a beer. And by the smile on his face, it was clear; he was pretty toasted.

Dating Don’t’s: 1. Don’t get drunk. You’ll lose perspective and start making bad judgments”
– Dr. Phil

We ended up taking the one glass of wine, still in the bottle, home and made our way to the car. I was tired and went to bed; he went out to the bars. Then proceeded to call me at two when they closed and needed a ride home, since there were apparently no cabs, no cab companies answering the phone, and he had gone alone without any friends with cars.

I couldn’t just leave him there. I have a conscience. So I got out of bed, bra-less, in pajamas, made my way into the freezing October night, and picked up the drunk ass. I brought him home and put him into my bed. Fine. Until half-an-hour later, when he needed something to drink. He drank all of my water and got back into bed. I woke up again after he crawled over me to get to my mini-fridge, where he proceeded to open a beer and drink the whole thing in one fluid motion. Hey, man, I can do that too, but doing it in the middle of the night mere hours before the sun is about to come up, naked, is not normal.

And yet, I continued to date this kid, who lived in New York. I knew he probably had a drinking problem, but again, he was very, very cute, with a phenomenal body, and at least he knew how to have fun. I visited him in New York once, and attempted a second trip. But, two days before trip number two, Mr. Martini called to tell me not to come; he was on his way to rehab. Just like picking up your date stoned, is in poor taste, so is getting bombed while on a date. Again, maybe if it were a really bad date, and the only way to survive the torture is to try and black it out with alcohol, then maybe it would be okay. But I have a hard time believing my date was all that bad. We went out under mutual terms. And we liked each other. So really, I guess there was no excuse for his being smashed. But, I guess being an alcoholic would mean you are probably smashed a lot.

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