Different Names For the Same Thing
It's been a few weeks since I turned 21, essentially rendering the name of this blog obsolete. Between this post and the next one, I'll have to come up with a new (and hopefully witty--what a change) name.
But speaking of being 21, my fear of becoming an alcoholic was not realized, thankfully. I'm a social drinker to the extreme. Actually, I'm just a social anything. I don't do anything when I'm by myself; I must have the company of others. That's basically why I spent every possible waking hour at the Collegian this summer. I get lonely very easily.
The difference between being 20 and being 21 is very bizarre to think about. It's kind of like joining a club. Before you join the club, you have no access to the benefits unless you get someone in the club to help you out. Now I'm in the club, and I can do things I was never able to do before. And it just happened almost magically--at 11:59 p.m. on July 29th, I wasn't in the club. At 12 midnight on the 30th, I was in.
There's something about age limits that inherently makes no fucking sense. In the matter of one day, a person goes from immature to mature? I don't get it. We have so much red tape with bureaucracy in this country as is--why not add some more? How hard would it be to hold psychological testing for teens to see if they're ready for their license, or to smoke cigarettes, or to buy alcohol? That's one more government department we don't have, and that would create more jobs.
Despite instantaneously passing through this imaginary barrier of time on July 30th, however, I haven't been doing what I thought I'd be doing with my newfound legal privilege--that is, spending every night at the bars, pissing away cash, drinking too much, making an embarrassment of myself, being carried home to pass out by myself.
Fortunately, I guess I've never really shown the signs of alcoholism that some of my peers have. I think Penn State trained me to learn how to drink. I can pace myself, I enjoy the slow build of a drunken buzz moreso than the end result. I always feel at the top of my game after a few drinks and not much more.
But nobody cares about any of that. Know what everyone cares about? I'm introducing a new feature for the blog. With every entry, I'm going to throw in a blurb about my favorite alcoholic beverages of the moment. To the Drink of the Day section!
Drink of the Day
Liquor
Last night I had 99 Oranges for the first time. I'd had 99 Bananas and 99 Berries before, and they're all fantastic. Very strong (99 Proof, hence the name), but very good for mixing due to the hint of fruity flavor. Last night, I mixed 99 Oranges with Lemon-Lime Gatorade and it was perfect. Vinny and I then watched Dawn of the Dead and House of Wax. DOTD was fucking awesome. I love zombie movies, and I can't wait for the day a zombie tries to attack me. Now I know how to attack them, thanks to DOTD and one of my favorite movies, Shaun of the Dead. I'm prepared to endure the next zombie attack.
Beer(?)
As the son/nephew/cousin of several avid beer geeks, I assumed I'd be a pretentious beer drinker myself when I had the opportunity. Luckily for me, Zeno's bottle shop has an awesome selection of local brews with lots of variety. Ales, stouts, wheat beers, they've got them all. I have yet to buy any of these fancy-schmancy beers. The last time I was at Zeno's, I bought four 40s of Colt 45. After two, I was in great shape. Colt 45 is an efficient malt liquor. Previously, I had been going the cheaper route with Hurricane. Hurricane's great because it's got absolutely zero flavor, which means no bad taste. It also has a lower volume of alcohol. I'm switching to Colt 45 when I want to get drunk like any normal homeless man.
I'm going to comment further on Zeno's, because it's my blog and I can. The last two times I've been there, there have been really cute girls working the counter (two different ones) and they're very friendly. It's stuff like this that gives me incentive to stop there after work when I'm going to buy alcohol. The dude at Brewsky's is nice too, but he's a dude. He's got nothing on the Zeno's girls. Seriously, when I walked out with my four Colt 45s, the girl said "Happy drinking." A little snarky politeness goes a long way, people.
On a related note: counter girls who wear Beatles shirts or comment on my music t-shirts are my new favorite thing in the world. At Bell's Greek Pizza the other night, the girl was wearing a brown Let It Be t-shirt. When I complimented her on it, she gave me one right back on my White Stripes shirt. I then enjoyed my pizza. Oh, college.
But speaking of being 21, my fear of becoming an alcoholic was not realized, thankfully. I'm a social drinker to the extreme. Actually, I'm just a social anything. I don't do anything when I'm by myself; I must have the company of others. That's basically why I spent every possible waking hour at the Collegian this summer. I get lonely very easily.
The difference between being 20 and being 21 is very bizarre to think about. It's kind of like joining a club. Before you join the club, you have no access to the benefits unless you get someone in the club to help you out. Now I'm in the club, and I can do things I was never able to do before. And it just happened almost magically--at 11:59 p.m. on July 29th, I wasn't in the club. At 12 midnight on the 30th, I was in.
There's something about age limits that inherently makes no fucking sense. In the matter of one day, a person goes from immature to mature? I don't get it. We have so much red tape with bureaucracy in this country as is--why not add some more? How hard would it be to hold psychological testing for teens to see if they're ready for their license, or to smoke cigarettes, or to buy alcohol? That's one more government department we don't have, and that would create more jobs.
Despite instantaneously passing through this imaginary barrier of time on July 30th, however, I haven't been doing what I thought I'd be doing with my newfound legal privilege--that is, spending every night at the bars, pissing away cash, drinking too much, making an embarrassment of myself, being carried home to pass out by myself.
Fortunately, I guess I've never really shown the signs of alcoholism that some of my peers have. I think Penn State trained me to learn how to drink. I can pace myself, I enjoy the slow build of a drunken buzz moreso than the end result. I always feel at the top of my game after a few drinks and not much more.
But nobody cares about any of that. Know what everyone cares about? I'm introducing a new feature for the blog. With every entry, I'm going to throw in a blurb about my favorite alcoholic beverages of the moment. To the Drink of the Day section!
Drink of the Day
Liquor
Last night I had 99 Oranges for the first time. I'd had 99 Bananas and 99 Berries before, and they're all fantastic. Very strong (99 Proof, hence the name), but very good for mixing due to the hint of fruity flavor. Last night, I mixed 99 Oranges with Lemon-Lime Gatorade and it was perfect. Vinny and I then watched Dawn of the Dead and House of Wax. DOTD was fucking awesome. I love zombie movies, and I can't wait for the day a zombie tries to attack me. Now I know how to attack them, thanks to DOTD and one of my favorite movies, Shaun of the Dead. I'm prepared to endure the next zombie attack.
Beer(?)
As the son/nephew/cousin of several avid beer geeks, I assumed I'd be a pretentious beer drinker myself when I had the opportunity. Luckily for me, Zeno's bottle shop has an awesome selection of local brews with lots of variety. Ales, stouts, wheat beers, they've got them all. I have yet to buy any of these fancy-schmancy beers. The last time I was at Zeno's, I bought four 40s of Colt 45. After two, I was in great shape. Colt 45 is an efficient malt liquor. Previously, I had been going the cheaper route with Hurricane. Hurricane's great because it's got absolutely zero flavor, which means no bad taste. It also has a lower volume of alcohol. I'm switching to Colt 45 when I want to get drunk like any normal homeless man.
I'm going to comment further on Zeno's, because it's my blog and I can. The last two times I've been there, there have been really cute girls working the counter (two different ones) and they're very friendly. It's stuff like this that gives me incentive to stop there after work when I'm going to buy alcohol. The dude at Brewsky's is nice too, but he's a dude. He's got nothing on the Zeno's girls. Seriously, when I walked out with my four Colt 45s, the girl said "Happy drinking." A little snarky politeness goes a long way, people.
On a related note: counter girls who wear Beatles shirts or comment on my music t-shirts are my new favorite thing in the world. At Bell's Greek Pizza the other night, the girl was wearing a brown Let It Be t-shirt. When I complimented her on it, she gave me one right back on my White Stripes shirt. I then enjoyed my pizza. Oh, college.
posted by Kevin A. Doran at 12:54 PM
1 Comments:
you're quite good at this.
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