If You Have “Just One Drink” I Hate You


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Nice Move

Just one drink

“No, I don’t want another glass. Thanks. I’ll just have a water.”

I put down my second vodka tonic (I know, I need to switch to soda water, I just can’t bring myself to do it yet, okay?), and glance at my friend.

“I thought we were drinking?” I can’t hide the judgement in my voice. Sure, it’s mid-week. And I know we both have shit to do. We decided to go out to dinner and hang out, but chose to forego the bar because we both had responsibilities in the morning (read: we’re secretly introverted and couldn’t stomach the idea of making small talk with eighteen year olds).

“Well yeah? I don’t know. I just wanted one glass of wine,” she declared while squeezing a lemon slice into her fresh cup of water.

I could tell that she wasn’t going to budge. The way she avoided eye contact and had the waiter collect her glass was the ultimate “fuck off.” She studied the menu and shifted as my death stare weighed her down. I sucked on my drink angrily as she gave me appetizer options. Under normal circumstances, I’d be pleased. Anytime a friend wants to go halfsies on a plate of mozzarella sticks, I usually get slightly aroused. But as my dream evening of getting drunk and shit talking all of our other friends came crashing around me, I couldn’t even get excited about some small plates.

“What?” She asked finally, as I grunted at her idea of getting a few appetizer and desserts and just sharing everything (a great plan, BTW). “I have a 9 a.m. class tomorrow, and I need to drive back to my apartment. I just wanted to be low key tonight.”

It makes sense. She has a big day or whatever tomorrow. She doesn’t want to be hungover, and she doesn’t want to risk driving drunk. I’m all for safety first. And hey, I totally get it that sometimes you don’t want to drink. I mean, not me. I pretty much always want to drink. I’m talking about normal people who aren’t teetering on the end of an alcohol dependency.

The thing is, if you have just one drink? I immediately hate you.

It’s not because you’re not going to say embarrassing things like me. Or because you wont be on the bar or convincing me that I should, in fact, text my middle school boyfriend and ask if he still loves me. It’s because I don’t understand you. It’s because I don’t agree with you. And it’s because I don’t respect you.

If you’re only going to have one drink, what’s the mother loving point?

I’m going to say one of the most alcoholic things I have ever said, but I drink to get drunk. That’s why I consume alcohol. That’s why I gulped down gross tasting poison. Because I like getting fucked up. I don’t mean blackout like “throw up in my Bonsai tree and send a Facebook message to my boyfriend’s ex” drunk. But like, “happily buzzed and will be down to order a pizza later” drunk. Sometimes I do get blackout drunk. Because that’s what happens when you drink alcohol. That’s the end goal, in most cases.

So when someone says they want “just want one drink,” it makes me question everything about them.

Why? Why are you doing this? Why not put those calories towards something delicious, like a slice of cake or french fries. Remember french fries? Eat those. Eat carbs in general. Use those calories on something that tastes good instead of poison that you’re not even consuming enough of. When you order a drink, I think “Hey this is great! We’re going to get drunk and talk shit about everyone who isn’t here and order garlic knots later.” But then you bow out. You let me down. You order a water.

And I’m just sitting here wondering if it was something I did. I mean, it’s not like you’re against alcohol. You ordered a pinot grigio like it was a reflex. But as I got ready to whip out my funnel and start pounding them back, you turned me down. Not because of morals. Not because of an aversion to alcohol. Not because you don’t also enjoy sending mean Facebook messages to the girl who stole your boyfriend in 11th grade.

It’s because you like to jude me. And just as I think we’re connecting, you decide to shut me down. You’re a tease, and I am having none of it.

The thing that really gets me? You’re still drinking. If you want to be safe when you drive, don’t drink at all. If you want to not be hungover in the morning, say no to alcohol. If you want to make everyone hate you and slowly fade out of your life, cancel all plans involving wine. But you don’t do that. Instead you think “I’ll just have one.” You think that I’ll be okay finishing the rest of the handle by myself while you watch with pursed lips and mentally recored what I say as blackmail. If you don’t want to drink, thats fine. But if you order just one drink, I’ll immediately know you’re a psychopath and will stop making plans (that I will inevitably cancel because I have social anxiety) with you.

So, to anyone who wants “just one drink” (unless you’re at an Italian restaurant or having a nice steak dinner), please know that I am judging you. And deleting your number. And canceling my scheduled birthday Instagram dedicated to you. Because the truth is, you’re not classy, you’re just a wet-blanket friend who doesn’t understand how drinking works. When it comes to alcohol, I’m going all in. I’m dedicating myself to the cause, and I’m using it for what it was meant to be used for: to give me the courage to order an over-priced blender on Amazon and bring home the hot guy from my English class. Otherwise what’s the point? Go take your judgement and your bad allocation of calories elsewhere. I don’t need that kind of negative limitation in my life.

(yeahokaywhat) Aspiring to be the next Tina Fey, Rachel spends her free time doing nothing to reach that goal. While judging people based on how they use "they're" vs. "there" on social media, she likes eating buffalo chicken dip, watching other people's Netflix, and wearing sweatpants way more than is socially acceptable. Hate mail and puppy videos can be sent to: rachel@grandex.co

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