I had a date a few nights ago with a man. He was tall, attractive, had a lovely smile and nice shoes. He was well educated and amusing, He ticked all the boxes, shall we say. There is however an issue, a personality flaw I find unnerving. One which could hinder future relations and be detrimental to a long lasting courtship. He was drinking soda water.
We met a Piccadilly Circus and I was anxious at the prospect of having non-alcoholic beverages forced upon me, god forbid an evening constitutional or cartoon portrait in Leicester Square (what else do tee-total-ers do??). I do not do first dates sober. The minute a man suggests meeting up for a coffee date it’s game over. What are we going to do, queue up in Starbucks for a skinny decaff mochachino and a cinnamon swirl? Please we are adults, let us drink as such.
Put it this way, if wine were a man I would have married it long ago. I would have run down the aisle to gladly spend the rest of my life with a bottle of Cloudy Bay hazy and happy safe in the knowledge we will never fall out. I will never go off it, or crave anyone else. Government warnings? Don’t make me laugh, I’ve been to The Conservative Club; trust me they make a gypsy stag do look like a WI coffee morning.
Sadly I speak from the depths of sober experience. I dated a man for a year that didn’t drink. It was hell on earth. Not only did he not drink he positively embraced the bizarre state of existence by going to AA meetings 4 times a week. I mean how many times can you tell a room full of people nodding their head and drinking tea about the time you got pissed at your Nan’s wake and streaked down the church naked, so you were sick in your hand a couple of times and swallowed it back up because there wasn’t any tissues around – big deal, you drank meths a few times with a detol chaser, you were experimenting, get over it. When I was growing up if you weren’t passed out in a public toilet on a regular basis by the age of 13 there was something wrong with you, now your sectioned in the Priory after a family size packet of wine gums. What ever happened to getting well and truly plastered?
The date went well, he was fun and jovial, I drank wine, he drank juice and I intend to see him again. But, (and I’m sure some would say its frightfully narrow minded of me to judge gentleman on his alcohol consumption) I do fear for our compatibility, aside from anything else there’s the issue of sober first time sex,; count me well out. I am assured it is worth trying, a strange and mythical phenomenon I hear people speak of, what next I wonder, oral sex outside on a sunny afternoon, doggy style when you’re due on after a Sunday roast under neon lighting. I consider myself to be reasonably at ease with myself and confident but for heavens sake dim the lights and load my glass, I’m nearly 35.
Sadly, to make matters worse, his personal reason for sobriety is even worse than alcohol-ism. More shocking than 10 years in a bus shelter drinking mentholated spirits, cutting off your middle finger in a gin induced haze or shooting your boss in the head after a 3 day tequila binge. These things I could handle, could work around. Alas no, it transpires said suitor is a sober, clean living, liver loving, water drinking, yoga teacher.
This can only mean one thing, not only is he confident enough to stand in a bar on a Friday night with a mineral water, to take a young lady out and stay sober but and perhaps most disturbingly, he also totally respects his body and for the sake of his health will happily put on a pair of cycling shorts, and assume the downward dog on a Sunday morning with a clear head and a spring in his step. What a freak.
I will see the Dalai Lama again, because I think it is important to broaden my horizons, to start dating outside of my booze fuelled box. Who knows, it might turn out to be a revelation, I might find that vitamin water is just as exciting as pinot grigio, wheatgrass as buzzy as sambuca. That actually it might be quite fun to still have liver at 40, and that now might be a good time to start having grown up sober sex. Wow I might even remember his name the next morning and be able to go home with knickers on. I am opening my mind and emptying my glass. One things for sure though, he ever tells me that he’s “high on life” I’ll be at that bar quicker that you can say double Jack Daniels and an absinthe chaser. Sobriety is one thing being a total dickhead is quite another.
Tags: alcohol, Drinks, drunk, Sober