Jesus may be the reason for a lot of people’s seasons. I’ve seen enough of those stickers on the lapels of stupid beaming church housewives to get it. But the holidays get me pumped for other reasons. Given that I’m a girl, I’ve worked in the service industry for years, and I’m still young enough that my family doesn’t expect me to bring alcohol yet, the holidays mean a lot of free drinking.
But my mom and step dad choose to be a little different from the rest of us. Why? Well, many reasons, but one being that they choose not to drink. Fine. A lot of people chose to do this. But not only do they avoid alcohol, but they feel the need to pollute the world with endless sanctimonious bullshit about why an innocent glass of cabernet is part of Satan’s evil plan to poison the sinners who choose to indulge. I mean, it’s red, the devil is red, hello, could there be a more obvious parallel?
But while on new years eve I’ll be working in my club and guzzling free champagne , she and joe the step weirdo, will do what they do every year. Which is sit alone in their bedroom (surprise, they have no friends) and toast the ball drop with this.
Sparkling cider. The non-alcoholic alternative.
The most famous sparkling cider seems to be a brand called Martinelli’s. On their website they call it “The ideal festive juice perfect for the whole family.” So, for the younger kids who wanna toast with mom and dad, it’s kinda cute. But when two adults drink it on new years, huddled in their bedroom by themselves it’s, for lack of a better term, fucking weird. Isn’t this "pretend drinking?" Aren’t they flirting with the very thing they warn against? "Oooo, look at us…he he he, we’re having some pretend champagne." Just like children spread out tea sets to have a, hehe, pretend party, or play doctor to do some, hehe, pretend fucking. After they finish the bottle do they pretend to be drunk? Do they talk in pretend slurs? Do they get into a pretend fight and wake up the next day, (and do like a lot of girls) pretend to forget what happened?
And the most mind-boggling thing about it: the stuff tastes like absolute garbage. I bet most of us will agree that when we took our first sips of alcohol, we checked to make sure we hadn’t mistaken that beer can for battery acid. Yeah, it was gross. But then all the sudden it was all so warm and fuzzy and it felt real good with that boy’s hand up our tube top. The initial sacrifice had its reward. But there is no reward for these people. And frankly I don’t think anyone over the age of twelve who thinks its normal to pretend drink should be rewarded with anything than a mouthful of merciless payback for the years of preaching they impose on me and my fellow alcoholics.
As for me, on new years I’ll be drinking for real in my club. And while the two of them pretend to pass out, I’ll be busy counting my tips in my manager's officer, pretending to be sober.