i’m not gone yet. i leave for vacation tomorrow. the sober-blog-o-sphere is quiet this morning.
i will stir up some shit.
i continue to be surprised at how no one cares that i’m not drinking.
last night, I hosted a client dinner, just me and four guests. There was plenty of booze (champagne to start, wine with dinner, a 10-year tawny port that i selected to go with desserts). i had tonic water and cranberry juice.
In the beginning everyone has their champagne glasses, we’re standing around in the kitchen, talking. my glass clearly contains something red/pinky. i’m different. no one cares. seated around the table at dinner, everyone is having red wine. my glass has more pinky liquid. no one cares.
right around dessert time, i get frustrated, like i want someone to notice. i want to have a conversation about not drinking (i guess this happens when you hit 60+ days, because i certainly wasn’t feeling like talking about it before). in my frustration at the end of the night, i stop filling my glass in the kitchen and instead bring the bottle of cranberry juice and the bottle of tonic water out and set them on the dining room table. then i mixed myself another drink.
still nothing. no one cares.
I can hear you. and yes, i know. i know. i’m doing this for me (blah), they’re all too drunk to take much notice of me (blah blah), stop looking for the adoration society to kick in because no one cares about your alcohol consumption as much as YOU care … (blah blah fucking blah).
let me say this. i’ll only say it once and then i’ll stop.
i want prizes. i want parades and fireworks.
in the absence of disco balls and streamers, i at least want someone to notice.
nothing. really, nothing. crickets-chirping-silence nothing.
<le sigh> all those worries that i’d stand out, be different, on the edges of society if i quit drinking … were all bogus.
no one cares.