So here I am at yet another gathering of my closest friends and family. It seems like we gather almost every month to talk about, as they call it, “my drinking problem.” Well this time I came prepared. I present to you a prescription from Trevor, my bartender, who also happens to be a certified mixologist. I’m sorry, what bar tending school did you attend? Yeah, I didn’t think so.
So when you tell me that my drinking is just self-medicating my anxiety and depression I will let you know that Trevor has prescribed me a Pomegranate & Rosemary Gin Fizz for my panic attacks and three Old-Fashioneds to help me sleep. Did I mention he has a PhD in “Good Times” from Dave & Busters?
And yes, I do, in fact, need this Pineapple Sunrise Mimosa to get myself into work in the morning and a Bloody Mary at lunch. Trevor says you have to stay ahead of the medication and make sure it doesn’t wear off. He knows what he’s talking about- he once made a Bourbon Slush for Topher Grace.
Pardon me if I am going to take the advice of my bartender, someone who has a vested interest in me getting out of bed and out to the bar every morning, and not some quack who wants to fill me with pills that will turn me into a drooling zombie. Not to mention that there is a history of addiction in my family and I am afraid I will become addicted to antidepressants. I will stick to booze- something I know I can control.
If Trevor didn’t care about me then how come he gave me a Dark ‘N’ Stormy on-the-house when I told him I overdrew my bank account? Does that sound like someone who doesn’t have my best interests at heart?
Now if you’ll please hand me those olives, I feel a cold coming on and Trevor says I should take two Dirty Martinis and text a female coworker a 4am.