Dating without drinking alcohol is a little like working out in your dress shoes. You can do it, but you’re gonna look like an asshole. As I’ve told you before, no first date should ever exceed two drinks, but I see nothing wrong with getting entirely Leaving Las Vegas on every date following. Dating is hard, and Internet dating is damn near impossible, so there’s no shame in relaxing yourself with a glass of wine or, say, a gin and tonic IV. Especially if you’re gonna be expected to have sex. I mean, have you seen people have sex? It’s gruesome. You can’t reasonably be asked to sleep with someone for the first time without getting a little buzzed beforehand, right? But there’s a fine line between drinking to become relaxed and drinking to become a total nightmare. This story is about the latter.
Over the years, I’ve had a fair amount of experience with the boozehounds. In college, my freshman-year roommate used to throw up on the floor next to his bed so often that after a month or two he stopped trying to clean the carpet and just cut out the dirty pieces and threw them in the trash. He also listened to Jamiroquoai incessantly. He and I were not close. Later, I had a friend who liked to get drunk and pee in my cat’s litter box. And let me tell you, you haven’t lived until you’ve tried to clean a human-sized amount of pee out of cat-sized pee container. Kinda like being a nurse in the ER, except without all the glamour and disposable gloves. Finally, I myself have been known to tie one on, on occasion. On my 21st birthday, I was introduced to a beverage called the Mind Eraser. Later than night, I threw up so aggressively that I broke the blood vessels around my eyes, making me look like Steve Buscemi for the rest of the week. I’m not sure if my mind was erased, but my dignity certainly was. Little did I realize though that there was a far more skilled drinker waiting in my future.
I can’t tell you what happens next until you buy my book. But it involves public drunkenness, overturned tables, and someone falling asleep in my lap. You’re curious…right?
To read the rest of this story, and a whole slew of other It’s Not a Match classics, buy my new book Not a Match: My True Tales of Online Dating Disasters.