Get Me the Buzz

I don't drink often.

As kids, we're all curious pandoras always wanting to discover what lies hidden behind that secret door - and one of the great taboos was the vodka and gin hidden behind the uppermost cabinets. For some reason, otherwise sensible adults seem to derive an inordinate amount of pleasure from imbibing the noxious solution ( clearly engineered to achieve insensibility! ) that it seems clear that we should all partake of a sip as well.

Of course that first taste is always memorable! Clearly remember mine even more than a decade past - the bitter aftertaste of lager at a dinner party - and then the dry painful heaves after downing one too many glasses of it.

Ugh. Till now I've never quite acquired the taste for beer.


Care for a drink?
Apart from the rare ( hardly ever, I swear! ) occasions that I take to drink ( evil alcoholic ex-boyfriends aside ), I usually keep an arm's length away from alcohol. Far from any strict religious intolerance and more from a patent dislike of the booze buzz! Getting disgustingly inebriated never seemed like a worthwhile ambition for me.

And yeah, I stay away mostly because I'm usually the designated driver for reasons that simply escape me! So pardon me for the occasional alcoholic binge when I find out that I'm not driving.

So when I realized that I'd be chauffeured around for a night on the town, I immediate called for a drink at the nearest bar after a brief unappreciated victory jig. I'll readily admit that I have a penchant for girlie chi chi cocktails. Bitter lagers don't do it for me, I'm afraid! I like them sweet :)

Still... don't know whether I've become inured to drink - or whether it's been suspiciously watered down - but after a couple of cocktails and possibly half a bottle of wine, I found that I could not quite achieve that alcoholic high. So much for Cloud 9 - I wasn't even close to floating off the table! Sure there was a time when I realized that my hands were starting to tremble ( the shakes! ) but that wore off almost as soon as I dropped the bottle.

I did start imagining all sorts of nasty ( positively illegal! ) sexual positions with a certain handsome Eurasian boy on the next table.

Damn, how many bottles of wine do I need for that buzz?


Maybe this Heineken cutie could get some for me.