There’s nothing more black sheepy than openly pouring vodka out of a flask into a champagne flute filled with sparkling apple cider at your cousin’s southern Baptist wedding…during the best man’s toast.
But I think there are moments in your life where some higher being is testing you and your character. And at 10:45p.m. on Saturday night my “test of character” was whether or not I am an alcoholic.
Guess what. I am.
To be completely honest, I failed this “test” around six p.m. when my brother, his girlfriend and myself realized that there was a bar right next to the pre-pre reception area, and practically ran (with cash in hand) to the hipster bartender and panted, “Do you… have…Michelob…Ultra?”
We smiled. And walked back amongst the Baptists with 2 beers in each hand gleefully smiling at the fact that we were about to be inebriated WHILE simultaneously offending 95% of the wedding party.
Now that, my friends, is a skill that cannot be taught.
Does this make me a terrible person? Absolutely. I will never deny the fact that I don’t make the most mature decisions in my life. They are mostly based on what I want at that particular moment. And at that particular moment I wanted an IV filled with grain alcohol attached to my arm. But at that moment, Michelob Ultra was the next best thing.
I’m sorry. But I want, what I want, when I want it. And if that makes me a selfish, immature asshole, then so be it. I’m only 23; I can do that “mature” bullshit later.
Yes, I should have been the mature cousin that I want my southern Baptist family to see me as, but seeing as they have absolutely no clue what I really am like… and yet I’m still considered a black sheep…why hide the truth from them any longer?
And come on! When you are being constantly bombarded with “When are you getting married, sugah?”/”Why aren’t you dating anyone, sugah?”/”Did New York City make you a lesbian, sugah?” A constant flow of alcohol is necessary to numb the pain from endless hours of biting ones tongue. (Weed would have been good at that moment, too.)
What really pisses me off is these people will never know what I am truly like, because if they did, I would naturally be shunned from any social gathering. They never need to know that my favorite pastime is drinking/writing while completely and/or half naked.
They never need to know about my opinions on abortions, because surely we shall disagree.
And I’m praying to God, none of them noticed me flipping off my brother in the church, while waiting to take the family wedding picture.
I think what pisses me off the most is that they have automatically written me off as an unreligious drunk heathen. But I’m Catholic! I’m like kind of super duper religious.
Drinking doesn’t make you less religious, southern Baptists. It just makes you a shit ton more fun to be around. And I know you won’t agree with me until you drink, but you never will partake in that beautiful moment when the alcohol touches your lips.
So until you can see that I’m obviously right, all I have to say to you is… Bahhhhhhhhhhh.