I am a student at Washington University, and I am an alcoholic. But not really, I’m at college so I never drink alone. This is like throwing a case of Duff into an AA meeting and thinking ‘hey, at least it’s social.’ Drinking alone is a problem, but call some friends over and it is a party! Drinking is the social thing to do because it is the bait to gather a large group of kids, it puts everyone at ease, and it gives the night a direction (to the next keg). I am going to operate off the precept that free-time can be used in any way imagined, but that to socialize with others one must attend the ‘party scene’ where there is a concentration of people that you want to see.
Way back, my roommate and I tried to brainstorm ideas for a sober Halloween party but ended up dropping the idea because we didn’t think that people would come and, if they did, would have no ‘purpose’ for being there. I pictured a room full of aimless strangers whose unease stained the walls a distasteful yellow. To give purpose to the night, we thought to replace drinking with bobbing for apples or carving pumpkins, but there remains no grand unifier like alcohol. We couldn’t think of anything that can take a bunch of strangers and put them at ease through participation in a common activity like da hooch.
So is it true that I must drink to have fun? Well, I surely draw some equation between the two. So, does this make me an alcoholic? Since I cannot be satisfied with my ‘not drinking alone = not an alcoholic’ rationalization, I still must search for my x-factor, the factor in my life that leads me to the inebriated tomfoolery and leaves me with a dry mouth and enlarged gut.
Well, the obvious answer would be that I drink to escape stress-to lose myself in the simplicity of hedonism. When I drink there is no past baggage nor future pretenses-just the chicken tenders in front of me right here and now. Plus, when I pass out, I don’t grind my teeth in my sleep. But if that is the case, if I drink to let off steam built up during a stressful week of classes, why is it that I wake up Monday more exhausted than I was on Friday? This downward cycle bent to self-destruction is what I truly want to correct. I am not about to make an argument against beer; I like beer because beer can be tasty-fun.
I am going to attack our tendency to start partying at 11 o’clock at night and end sometime early morning. How long you last equates to how ‘tough’ you are. Why cannot we all do what I do, and start drinking at 6 or 9 pm so that we can all pass out by 12 and get some good rest? If you are going to play the social game, one is pressured to ante-up by downing a brew or two. Because this is the accepted norm, I commend those who can stand attending parties sober. Try going to one sober, you’ll turn to the drink out of boredom. I like alternative purposes other than alcohol (although the juice can certainly be present) like moon jumps, live music, theme parties, or dancing. At least, with some other purpose for going out, people aren’t compelled to entertain themselves by belittling their capacity for thought.
What a weird breed we college kids are. Seriously, look at our behaviors. During the week we stress to impress. Come Thursday we become afflicted with some Peter Pan complex that prods us to go out later and later. We eat copious amounts of food but only once a day. We sit in class but doodle instead. We pay the institution to expand our minds but kill brain cells in-between enlightenments. This article harbors no morals and dispenses no flack, but merely asks that we look at what we all do so that we don’t turn wack.