In my younger days, an invitation to the pub was very rarely turned down. Indeed, if there was some bizarre reason I was unable to attend ie near fatal illness, nuclear war etc., I would do everything in my power to get there somehow, even if it was only for last orders, or a bag of nuts come to think of it. Who cares if I didn’t have the taxi fare home? It didn’t matter because everything was wonderfully spontaneous back then. I inhabited a world where anything could happen, at any time and I just enjoyed the ride. Yeehaa! Cut to a decade (ok maybe two) later, children and husband in tow and the world is a different animal. Nights out are rare creatures which are devoured like the last meal of a death row inmate. And hangovers are an evil curse sent by the devil himself.
When friends recently invited us out for drinks my thoughts, in order, were;
- how much Resolve have we got left in the cupboard?
- what time shall we book the taxi home so we get an acceptable night’s sleep?
- at which point should I start downing pints of tap water?
- what drink should I stick with? Ie no mixing the grape and the grain.
- what should I have for tea to line my stomach?
My socialising was now planned in reverse. Gone was the spontaneity of my youth, gone was the desire to stay out as long as humanly possible and crucially, gone was my ability to drink whatever was put in front of me. Yes, my alcohol tolerance is in tatters these days so what should have been a relaxing and exciting event had become a military operation in hangover avoidance. It was all about the next day rather than the night before, which interestingly I was told was a downfall of mine by a clairvoyant in a tee-pee once. As it happens, on this occasion I woke up feeling half decent – a huge triumph and one which I happily shared with my friends, secretly hoping they had succumbed to the vino and were bedbound, making my achievement all the sweeter. In my smugness I seem to forget that my evening was spent savouring one glass of wine and gulping several pints of water whilst watching the clock so we didn’t miss the taxi. Fancy that when I could have been at home with a nice cuppa watching Strictly? When you start to get more enjoyment out of other peoples hangovers rather than your night out, it’s time to hang up your heels!