Monday, May 18, 2009

50 ways to love your liver OR Binge drinking is AWESOME!

A while back I decided I wasn’t going to drink alcohol. Ever since that day people that do drink alcohol insist on telling me that I’m missing out. But it’s not true.

I work for my university’s newspaper and a few weeks ago I got to go to San Diego for a journalism conference and I was way excited. I got a bunch of per diem money to spend and I figured it would be cool to see California.

My per diem got spent, all right, but I didn’t get to see much of California. Why? Because the co-workers who went with me are raging 20-something alcoholics, that’s why!

See, people can drink all they like and I don’t care. It’s their business. I just thought it was funny that for my co-worker friends the trip revolved around alcohol.

These four guys drank every single day for five days straight. Their poor little livers. As soon as we checked into the airport they went straight for the airport bar. They drank on the flight. As soon as we checked into the hotel the first order of business was to locate a liquor store at which to purchase copious amounts of liquor. They spent the whole first night buying liquor and stashing it in our hotel sink with a bunch of ice so there was never a place to wash your hands.

When they’d wake up all hung-over they would take a few drinks from the hotel stash, which is a very productive way to start the day.

When they weren’t drinking from the hotel room booze cache, they were finding all the cool places in San Diego to go drinking. Sometimes they would go to three places a night and just drink and drink and burn through their per diem money like a Hummer burns gasoline. I would just sit and wish I could go home. Whenever we voted it would be four to one, so I always got voted down. It would be a bright sunny day in San Diego and they would want to go sit in a dark bar and drink. We could have been at Sea World, the zoo, the beach or a thousand other sunny, awesome places but instead we were stuck in a bar.

Most of them were so hung over that they missed most of the conference. They were worried that they might get in trouble with our editor-in-chief, but it turns out that our editor-in-chief does the same thing when she goes to conferences.

“Partying,” as it turns out, consists mainly of drinking and talking and doing stupid stuff and then trying to remember the stupid stuff you did and said the next day. Hilarious.

And then there’s the puking. It looks like loads of fun.

One of the guys got super drunk one night and asked me, “Why don’t you drink?”

I said, “Well, remember how you puked all over the balcony and spent last night on the bathroom floor?”


“And then the day before you hooked up with that freaky chick from Wisconsin and then were all embarrassed about it the next day?”


“And the day before that you got super drunk and started telling everyone you were labor leader and civil rights activist Cesar Chavez?”


“That’s why.”

I’m still not convinced I’m missing out on anything.