Why I Don’t Drink
I’m almost thirty years old, and I am drug and alcohol free. I’ve never tried marijuana, or cigarettes. I’ve never even had a sip of beer. I don’t even know what it tastes like. I’ve been pretty much drug and alcohol free for my entire adult life, and I’m not really sure why.
Part of me just doesn’t want to break my streak. I haven’t drunk anything all this time — why start now? It like, I haven’t thrown up since May of 1994, and so I’m terrified of ever throwing up because I just don’t want to break my record. I guess that makes me twice as likely not to drink.
Part of me is just a control freak. I don’t like losing control of my body, or my mind. I don’t want my thinking to be fuzzy in any way. I want to live in and experience a rational, logical, and real world. I don’t ever want to be hypnotized or altered, or even drugged at the dentist.
But the biggest reason is simply: I just don’t want to.
There are many reasons why I should drink. Drinking makes you an adult. Drinking puts you at an even level with other people. I feel like a little baby when I’m out on a date, and the girl is there sipping her sophisticated and important looking adult beverage, and I’m just sitting there twiddling my thumbs. I might as well order milk and cookies. As the night wears on, she orders more and more drinks, and her mood changes from tense to easy going. And I stay in the same state of mind, child like, with a passionate wonder for economics.
Perhaps if I drank, I could be tricked into holding hands with her, or putting my arm around her. Maybe I’d accidentally kiss her, which would lead to a serious relationship. But even if that happened, I still wouldn’t like it, because I want to be totally responsible for that. If I say something stupid, I want to take full credit. And if I pull in for a first kiss, I want to feel nervous and awkward and everything that goes with it. I want to remember all that. I don’t want it to just be forgotten in some drunken stupor.
As far as smoking goes, I’ve never even had a puff of a cigarette. I know what it smells like — really good. I actually love the smell of cigarettes. It smells so enchanting, like nintendo games, or bacon. Whenever I’m around a smoker, I just want to bury my nose into their jacket and just sniff away. I actually want to start smoking cigarettes. Smokers get more breaks at work. They can de-stress really easily. And they make friends so quick. Like, “Hey, you got a light? Where are you from?” Smokers may live shorter lives, but they are certainly more relaxed.
I know what marijuana smells like too, even though I’ve never had a puff of that either. Marijuana kinda smells like burning tires or something. It’s a very alarming smell to me, strong and punchy. As if something is going to explode any minute. You can smell it a mile away, and everybody goes, “You smell that? You smell that?”
But I am very proud not to smoke marijuana, precisely because I am in favor of legalizing it. I want to be a good advocate for it. Someone might say, “Well, you just want to legalize it because you’re a pot head,” and I can say no. I’ve never tried it, and I never will. I guess it’s the same principle as with cigarettes or alcohol. Just because it’s legal doesn’t mean I’m going to use it.
A life of sobriety may mean that I’m missing out on a lot. People say, “You’re missing out on all the cool thoughts you’d have if you were high!” but what about the cool thoughts I might miss out on if I were sober during that time? I might miss out on a really good sober idea! I’d certainly miss all the money I’d lose buying all that stuff. But I’d also miss out on being able to set a good example for some kids that looked up to me. The best thing about living a sober life is being able to tell kids that I made my own decisions, and I never needed to rely on drugs or alcohol to have a good time.