You know what the worst part about being sober is? I’ll let you guess. Okay, answer time: the fact that I can’t get rip-roaring drunk whenever I want, which is all the time. But here’s the thing: AA says that even if you haven’t drank for five or 10 years, you’re still an alcoholic. So if we’re resorting to name-calling, then I may as well look the part, right? I’m still going to wear my bathrobe everywhere and scream at my roommates when they’re getting ready for work in the morning for disturbing my slumber.
Whenever somebody refers to me as a “dry drunk,” it’s just their way of calling me an asshole, which is pretty on the nose. But at least back in my drinking days, I had an excuse for my reprehensible behavior. “Sorry, I just got so hammered” was such a banger line that would temporarily get me out of trouble until I displayed the same exact behavior, without fail, just a few days later. But these days, when I promise to drive my friend to the airport and bail at the last minute because a new episode of The Penguin came out, and I also had no intention of driving them in the first place, suddenly I’m pushing things too far.
Speaking of driving, next time somebody asks me if I want a soda for the road, I’m going to punch them in the throat. Let me be very clear here– “road sodas” aren’t the same when you’re sober. Apparently you’re being offered an actual fucking can of soda. There’s 46 grams of sugar and a healthy dose of Red 40 in a can of Mountain Dew Code Red. Are you kidding me? If I’m going to poison myself for the love of the game, then there has to be an upside.
What, are you going to tell me that there’s a timeless thrill to pounding seven Diet Cokes and getting behind the wheel? I can assure you that until you get pulled over, hop out of the car, throw the keys into the marsh, and pound a pint of vodka before a field sobriety test can be administered with skewed numbers because they can’t tell for certain whether you were drinking before the altercation, you’ll never know the true, unbridled joy that comes with pounding road sodas with reckless abandon like a boss.
But perhaps the worst part about sobriety is the feeling of feelings. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a mushy and sentimental guy… I’m talking about literal physical pain. Sure, there’s the emotional pain of being dumped by your girlfriend for making yet another scene at her family reunion (I pissed on the charcuterie board), but even worse, I can’t do a backflip off the deck into the bushes as a party trick without being down for the count for at least a week. Offer me all the LaCroix and Spindrift you want, but you’re not going to see any more cool stunts because the “government” says I’m “a danger to myself and others” when I get shitfaced, and I have the ankle bracelet to prove it.