Hey kids...
Last week, we had an essay assigned to us where we were allowed to cast off the oppressive stuffiness of academia and "be funny... you know... if you want to." So I made an attempt at being funny. Thought you guys might want to read what I came up with. Please, do enjoy.
Oh, the assignment was this... just so you know what I was shooting for: write an essay that compares and contrasts three types of men or women in the dating scene. In addition, create a process analysis of how a typical date with one of said types would go.
Anyhoo, here '
tis:
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The Men of Booze
As you go about your life, you will inevitably come face to face with the sultry, exciting prospect of dating a member of the opposite sex (or same sex, if that's your pleasure). At this juncture, you must make a choice that essentially boils down to this... and here I'm paraphrasing Hamlet... to date or not to date. That is the question, and it is one whose answers lead down two very specific paths. If you choose NOT to date, for example, then... well... you're going to have a lot of free time on your hands. Maybe you'll want to look into buying many, many cats. Oh, and get used to the idea of dying alone! (the cats will probably eat you after you've died)
However, if you choose TO date... to grab life by the throat and give it a good, old fashioned throttle... then you must also open yourself up to a plethora of additional choices. Namely, you must choose who, exactly, you would like to date. The varieties of men and women out there are endless, after all, and most are ridiculously dull, or socially awkward, or just downright unpleasant to be around both in terms of attitude and general odor. Yes, if you're going to wade through that mass of discordant personalities and horrifyingly inept grooming habits, you're going to need a lot of help from an old friend. No, not your old college roommate or your best buddy from work, or even your dear, old Dad... I'm talking about ALCOHOL! The social lubricant that turns all bad dates into, at the very least, a hazy blur of candlelit dinners and fistfights with the homeless.
To that end, I'd like to take you on a brief tour of three types of men that you might encounter in your average dating scene, as viewed through the prism of man's favorite vice (that isn't directly related to naked body parts). They all have their perks, but I think you'll see which one of them truly knows how to show a girl (or boy) a good time. Without further adieu, I give you... The Men of Booze.
The AbstainerThe Abstainer doesn't drink. In fact, alcohol has never touched his lips, except at Church back when they used real wine for Communion (and even then he was lobbying hard for grape juice). He lives cleanly, he lives correctly, and he is about as much fun as a tax seminar held at a slower pace for those in the audience that are bad at math. Of course, this might be what you are into. Maybe the velocity of this world of ours has thrown you into such a tizzy that the thought of a man with the overall demeanor of weak tea sounds all kinds of appealing. And if that's the case, then... by all means... hang out around the library (The Abstainer likes books about gardening), or your local government (The Abstainer always attends town hall meetings), or any recreation center that happens to be hosting a tax seminar ( The Abstainer LOVES tax seminars and, it should be noted, is excellent at math).
Keep in mind, however, that The Abstainer's disdain for alcohol can be extrapolated outwards to his feelings regarding all forms of fun. Dancing? The Abstainer is against it (think John
Lithgow in Footloose). Gambling? No, no... not for The Abstainer. And, most damning of all... sex before marriage? Perish the thought! What would Jesus think? No, if you decide to (chastely, respectfully) date The Abstainer, be prepared for a hug that lasts longer than ten seconds to count as “third base.”
So, perhaps The Abstainer isn't quite what you're looking for. You've got womanly needs, after all. That being the case, maybe I can interest you in...
The ModerateWhy yes, The Moderate WILL have a beer with dinner! Perhaps he'll have two. But no more than that, as he has an important meeting in the morning and wouldn't want a slight headache to get in the way of him doing as good a job as is required to not get canned. Unlike our unpleasantly pious friend, The Abstainer, The Moderate is a little more loose. He is freer, more prone to taking the occasional chance, he is... not wild, exactly, but certainly a lot more likely to wake up nude on the balcony of an acquaintance's apartment after the Super Bowl than is The Abstainer.
Dating The Moderate is an amazingly average experience, one quite often highlighted in the films of Nora
Ephron. Unlike The Abstainer, The Moderate is not opposed to taking you out for a little dancing at a club that doesn't play too much hip-hop. He'll take you on a weekend getaway to Atlantic City (he'll have a set limit of money he's willing to lose, but that's because he's responsible). And, worry not... The Moderate is a modern man, not held down by biblical pressures or outdated societal concepts of moral decency. If it's been six or more dates and you both have explicitly agreed not to file harassment charges the next day, well then... he'll open a bottle of wine, turn on an appropriately mood-setting Teddy
Pendergrass CD, and then you and he will have some very decent,
pre-marital sex.
But maybe this, too, sounds a little staid. It's not boring exactly... hell, at least there's booze... but The Moderate does seem a few shades more vanilla than you'd personally enjoy. So be it... please, step into the dark side...
The DrinkerHave you ever watched a man drink a fifth of Jack Daniels, then try to navigate a paddle boat around the fountain inside a mall? Have you ever seen a six-pack of beer disappear so quickly, you'd swear that the Earth hit a wrinkle in time? Have you ever met... The Drinker? He is the inverse of The Abstainer; he is what The Moderate becomes after he loses his job and the two drinks with dinner become three, then five, then a keg. He will show you a panoply of sin so jaw-dropping in it's length and breadth, it would make Satan himself cough awkwardly, fumble with his keys, then excuse himself to attend a just-remember urgent meeting about “Hell and his minions and stuff.”
To fully illustrate the type of man we're dealing with in The Drinker, let me break down a typical date of you... call it a process analysis, if you will, or call it a glimpse into madness. Either way, this is how it would happen.
First, The Drinker would roll out of bed and immediately roll into a bottle of whatever was on sale from the liquor store's bottom shelf. Having gotten himself “in the right frame of mind” for a date, he'd set about stumbling from his efficiency apartment in the bad part of town all the way to your front door (it goes without saying that The Drinker lost his license YEARS ago).
At your place, he'd ask if you would mind terribly if he used your bathroom. Be sure to have something to read nearby, as The Drinker will fall asleep in there for at least three hours. Once he has awoken, he'll have a terrible thirst for booze that must be quenched. Thus, your first date with The Drinker will begin at a bar. A horrible, horrible bar... one that features at least two old men, crying. You'll sit in whichever booth is the cleanest (relatively speaking) and you'll tell The Drinker about yourself... your hopes, your dreams, your aspirations for the future. The Drinker, in turn, will tell you about this one time where he got really messed up on grain alcohol and head-butted a dumpster behind a 7-11. The Drinker will smile at you. You'll smile at The Drinker. He'll barf. You'll politely look away while he barfs, then you will help him to the door before the bartender can come around with a sawed-off length of pool cue.
Next stop, the dance floor! Or the ER, if you can't get The Drinker to open his eyes. But barring that... dance floor! The Drinker, in spite of all the booze (or perhaps because of it), dances brilliantly. He's like a Soul Train cast member made entirely of rubber and a distinct lack of shame. Of course, all this movement will inevitably lead to more barfing, but if you are squeamish around 80 proof barf, then you are already barking up the wrong tree as far as The Drinker is concerned.
After the dry heaves have stopped, you will find yourself at the part of the evening that is solely the domain of The Drinker. The Abstainer has been in bed for five hours. The Moderate might still be up, but he's at home watching late-night poker on cable. The Drinker, on the other hand, is having you watch out for the cops while he tries to break open the front gate of an abandoned mini-golf course on the outskirts of town.
When all is said and done... when dawn's first light begins to break over the rusted,
graffitied windmill on the 11
th hole... as you lay naked next to his loudly snoring form, both of you wrapped in what was once the
Astroturf from a putting green, you'll come to a realization. Your head is killing you.
But later, when the hangover has worn off and you have had the opportunity to piece together the evening by establishing a time line via the receipts in your pocket, you'll think back to the evening you had with The Drinker and realize that... while he may not be perfect... The Moderate is SO the way to go. That Drinker guy is out of his mind!
Finally, you will head to the free clinic for a blood test, nervous of course, but glad to be a part of the wonderful world of dating. Who's next?
