Yesterday was Day 50 of my Year Of Living Sober.
It was a Friday. My wife and I (and baby daughter) had a nice surprise when a couple of friends dropped around to see us before the New Year and before our second baby is born (which should be within the next couple of weeks). We had a lovely catch up and, even though it was a very warm summer’s day in Melbourne, not a single boozey drink was downed.
No beers, no cans of Jim Beam and coke (a fav we often share) and no scotch (though I’m the only one who would normally drink scotch anyway). We talked a bit about my experiment of not drinking for a year and my friends asked how my YOLS was going and congratulated me on hitting the 50 day mark.
“Really good I said,” and “thanks!”
It was no big deal really—us all not drinking—because although we’ve had some fun drunkin’ times together, we don’t always drink when we’re out together. Even if we’re out to see a band at a pub, or trying one of their preferred Vegan restaurants, we don’t always get sloshed or even tipsy.
Booze aint what keeps us friends.
But with New Year’s Eve (which my wife and I will both experience cold sober) so close we started reminiscing about celebrations gone by, most of which would have ended up with us all pretty intoxicated. We fondly recalled a few years ago celebrating New Year’s Eve together when our friends were living by the beach. My wife and I agreed that was probably one of our favourite NYE nights ever and I’m pretty sure we all got pretty tanked.
I remember it was a hot night, the water was mild and the sand was squeaky clean and cool. And besides the spectacular sunset I also remember how much I loved that night had little to do with the alcohol and everything to do with the company.
Little Booze Joke 50:
An aggressive drunk walks into a bar and the barman says, “What would you like kind Sir?” and the aggressive drunk says “F*ck off.”