The music is too loud.
The room is too crowded.
The people are drunk.
Believe it or not, bars are not all they’re cracked up to be — at least if you’re sober.
I came to college knowing I wouldn’t drink. When family and friends heard I would be spending my time in Moscow without a beer in my hand, they offered questionable looks.
I didn’t make the choice for religious reasons — like most would think — merely personal ones. Staying sober proved easier than I once thought, especially in a town stereotyped as being filled to the brim with rambunctious youths. However, the pressures of not drinking, especially when I had explicitly told someone I don’t drink, surprisingly disappeared. For all their faults and mishaps, my drunk people sure know how to respect the boundaries of the sober.
Parties, and by extension hanging out with drunk people when sober, can still be fun. It just takes some creativity.
Most inebriated comrades will take it upon themselves to take care of you, even though they may be the ones in need of some assistance. This includes an endless supply of free soda. I never have to stand around emptyhanded.
Brandon Hill | Argonaut
Humor also takes on a life of its own. A simple knock-knock joke or bad pun elicits double the raucous laughter that Steve Martin or Robin Williams ever received in their prime. It’s a confidence boost to say the least, a manufactured bravery even more potent than liquid courage.
Staying away from the bad-decision juice also means I often am lauded as a late-night superhero. My powers? The unique ability of operational motor functions.
On a level playing field, chances are I would be average at best during a game of beer pong. Come Saturday night, however, I become the Steph Curry of throwing plastic balls into plastic cups — at least in comparison to my competitors.
Other abilities of this late-night hero come in the form of being able to drive a vehicle without veering of the road. This power manifests itself in a number of creative and unexpected ways, but most often takes the form of midnight Taco Bell runs or a quick trip to restore the liquor supplies.
“You’re so great,” I often hear through slurred speech from the backseat. “You’re a good person.”
You know what? You’re right.
Because even more important than feeding the drunks, is making sure they arrive home safely. In my three years of staying sober, I have never felt a pang of inconvenience in taking a friend home. It’s the least I could do to make sure I get to see the people I care about most the next morning.
That’s what makes parties, the bar scene or just drunken antics fun for sober ones like me. I don’t need alcohol coursing through my blood stream. I don’t need another shot of courage.
I just need my closest companions, the ones who help me get through the day.
Because chances are, they’ll need my help getting through the night.
Brandon Hill can be reached at [email protected] or on Twitter @brandonmtnhill