If you have a drinking problem, just shut up and drink. Don’t throw out some lame diversion which only manages to place you under a microscope.
The “specimen” I refer to is a gal I used to serve who, instead of just ordering her drink would go through more histrionics than the silent film star great, Clara Bow. First she would plop herself down with extra hard ploppiness (“Man am I beat!”), next she’d let out what meteorologists would call a Category Four Sigh (“What a day I had!”), and then, after your friendly bartender has handed her her Ketel One and grapefruit, say, “Boy am I gonna enjoy this… first one of the day!!!”
Excuse me? Who says that? One having her fourth of the day or someone saying, “This will be the first of many.”
If I can paraphrase The Bard here, “The Lady doth (attest) too much methinks.” I mean, this is like asking a serial killer (not knowing he’s a serial killer) if he happens to have the time and him saying, “What’s the hell is that supposed to mean? I don’t even own an axe.”
I’ve often wondered if Lady “specimen”, when she threw out one of her diversions, could see in the mirror behind me all those rolling eyes to her left and right. But whether she saw them or not, every day she encored the same performance.
Hey, just drink, Baby, or don’t drink if that’s what to do… but save the song and dance for summer stock. No one’s judging you, unless you make a statement that creates a jury.
FYI: I only made $249,999.00 last year so I’m voting for Obama.