Crack It Open
I'm scared to admit something lest everyone (and I do mean EVERYONE, including my mother of course) think I'm some kind of alcoholic. And as I say 'some kind', I'm not talking about the kind in treatment who go to meetings and call themselves 'sober'. No, I wouldn't be that kind. I'm actually not saying that I'm an alcoholic at all because I'm not. I don't need to drink and I go days and even weeks without drinking. I'm a drinker, which is pretty much a given, but I don't have a problem with my drinking. I don't let it interfere with my life and my decision making (with the exception of certain weekend nights when I have been known to make a few unfortunate decisions that impact my life the next day). And even though I do most of my drinking alone (Hell, I do just about everything alone), I'm a social drinker. Who happens to really like the sound of a brand new bottle of liquor being opened. Not the fizz-ahh of a beer can or the fizz-clink of a beer bottle. No, it's the very distinctive sound of a plastic seal being broken on a bottle of liquor. Nothing sounds quite like the click, click, cliiick.
I'm going to handicap myself a little here by rationalizing that it's because I'm broke. Brand new bottles of liquor are rare in my world. They require a significant sum of money (usually around twenty dollars) and mean that for the next little bit I'll have something very good to drink. And because I tend to ration my liquor that 'next little bit' tends to last quite awhile. It has to. It takes me awhile to save twenty dollars. Once upon a time, a new bottle of rum was a weekly (or bi-weekly) occurrence. Now? I try very hard to make my bottles last the better part of a month. That's a big stretch that takes a lot of self-control. And because of that self-control, I'm pretty certain that I'm not an alcoholic.
I just happen to cherish the 'cracking open'. Click, click, cliiick. Nothing like a full bottle. It's like a Saturday morning when the weekend is laid about before you full of possibilities. It'll be hours before it ends and the reality of Sunday evening sets in. That's how a full bottle feels to me. So many drinks and so many possibilities. It's truly one of the best feelings in the world. Even to the non-alcoholic in me.
As I look at my bottle of Graham's Texas Tea, I see that it is a little more than half-full (I almost said, 'half-empty. Oops). It's starting to get depressing. Once it's empty, it's empty and I have to find the money for another bottle. Just Saturday afternoon I cracked it open. I soaked up the click, click, cliiick, as I always do. And let me tell you, I've savored each and every drink that has come out of that bottle. I suppose that's the Grace in being poor - you learn to appreciate the completely insignificant details rich folks overlook. When I had money to spare, I didn't enjoy things nearly as much as I do now that I'm broke. I could buy what I wanted when I wanted to and little seemed like a luxury. Now a trip to Whataburger or a free donut left on my desk are reasons to celebrate, just like the click, click, cliiick of a new bottle of liquor.
I guess I'll make myself one more drink and drink it slow. Ok, let's not go that far. I'm still not a slow drinker, but I do enjoy the Hell out of what I'm drinking while I'm drinking it. Sure, I'll be one drink closer to an empty bottle, but I'll also be one drink closer to cracking open a new one. And that, my friends, is always a good thing.
I'm going to handicap myself a little here by rationalizing that it's because I'm broke. Brand new bottles of liquor are rare in my world. They require a significant sum of money (usually around twenty dollars) and mean that for the next little bit I'll have something very good to drink. And because I tend to ration my liquor that 'next little bit' tends to last quite awhile. It has to. It takes me awhile to save twenty dollars. Once upon a time, a new bottle of rum was a weekly (or bi-weekly) occurrence. Now? I try very hard to make my bottles last the better part of a month. That's a big stretch that takes a lot of self-control. And because of that self-control, I'm pretty certain that I'm not an alcoholic.
I just happen to cherish the 'cracking open'. Click, click, cliiick. Nothing like a full bottle. It's like a Saturday morning when the weekend is laid about before you full of possibilities. It'll be hours before it ends and the reality of Sunday evening sets in. That's how a full bottle feels to me. So many drinks and so many possibilities. It's truly one of the best feelings in the world. Even to the non-alcoholic in me.
As I look at my bottle of Graham's Texas Tea, I see that it is a little more than half-full (I almost said, 'half-empty. Oops). It's starting to get depressing. Once it's empty, it's empty and I have to find the money for another bottle. Just Saturday afternoon I cracked it open. I soaked up the click, click, cliiick, as I always do. And let me tell you, I've savored each and every drink that has come out of that bottle. I suppose that's the Grace in being poor - you learn to appreciate the completely insignificant details rich folks overlook. When I had money to spare, I didn't enjoy things nearly as much as I do now that I'm broke. I could buy what I wanted when I wanted to and little seemed like a luxury. Now a trip to Whataburger or a free donut left on my desk are reasons to celebrate, just like the click, click, cliiick of a new bottle of liquor.
I guess I'll make myself one more drink and drink it slow. Ok, let's not go that far. I'm still not a slow drinker, but I do enjoy the Hell out of what I'm drinking while I'm drinking it. Sure, I'll be one drink closer to an empty bottle, but I'll also be one drink closer to cracking open a new one. And that, my friends, is always a good thing.
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