The Sauce

You know, I'm no stranger to "The Sauce".  I don't think I am what would be considered an alcoholic, but I have been known to pull some stupid stunts while under the spell of "The Sauce".  Since college I refer to it as being "over-served". Blame it on the bartender, don't blame it on the A-A-A-Alcohol!  It is never your fault, it is never "The Sauce's" fault, it is the bartender's fault.  Sometimes I would be coy and say that someone stole my wallet and forced me to drink and made me pay for it.  NEVER MY FAULT!

Once when I was 20, I called one guy I had a crush on six times in one night and I believe, in one hour.  I learned about drunk dialing that night and future relationships.  Like Tequila Shots and Good Wine...they do not mix.  So I stopped that silly phase.

Then the bastards invented texting. TEXTING!!!  Now I ask, where is the invasion of someone's personal space and time with a few typed out words?  Oh, it is there.  Somehow in my maturity, however, I gained a "sauce" induced filter.  I will do one of two things if I get the urge after being over-served. I will either send a text and immediately delete the evidence. Of which I never forget that I actually sent it, but I do not have to deal with the humiliation of reading said text the next day and finding misspelled words or worse...questions of "miss me?" or confessions like "looks like I had too much to drink tonight".  Who needs to know this information that isn't currently at your side? NOBODY!  The second thing I can do is actually find a little clarity during writing that text and actually not sending it. Sometimes I'll save it to see if it is worth sending sober. IT NEVER IS! Sometimes I'll just stop, mid-incoherent message and see the light of nonsense and put the phone down.  I don't always have this clarity when not drinking, which is clearly ironic.  Like recently, I did not send a text to Georgia when I was drinking, but I couldn't help myself when I was sober.

"The sauce" has brought me a few things in life.  It has most certainly brought me additional pounds in areas like my chin and liver.  It has brought me "really good, deep and meaningful conversations" with new friendships and of course new crushes.  It has brought me totally unwarranted humiliation.  It has brought me bruises.  It has brought me regret. Why do I drink "the sauce" again?  Oh, because when not drinking into a state of bad ideas (which quite honestly, isn't as frequent as this post may sound...:)), I actually enjoy having a glass of wine or an occasional bourbon with my mother and a cold beer on a hot day is something worth bragging about.  But nevertheless, I have often felt like kicking the bartender who served me those drinks and the person who stole my wallet and forced me to drink with my own money, but I do not, without a doubt in my cloudy head, hold myself responsible for any unsavory behavior.  Blame them!  No apologies!