Saturday, 7 January 2012

Pet Hate #1.

This isn't really a "pet hate". A pet hate is something small and insignificant in one's life that bothers them a little more than it should. A couple of my pet hates, for instance, are when "lads" spit on the pavement as they walk, or how sweets at the cinema are grossly overpriced. This, by comparison, is a menacing life-size jungle cat of a hate, rather than a small, docile domestic kitty.


So here it is: The Drunk Excuse.
Things happen on a night out, or at a party. Of course they do. It's expected. People drink too much, and make fools of themselves one way or another. Whether it's falling over a few times, "getting with" someone, or just talking a little too much, regardless, these things happen. These events, funny or outrageous as they may be, are held against people and make lovely little anecdotes to tell for a very long time afterwards. Some people become known as "the girl that threw up on someone's doorstep", "the guy who fell out of the taxi", or "the person that kissed five people in one night". For years, some people are greeted with "hey, you're that girl who got kicked out of the club that time..." or "I remember you, didn't you try and get with my friend?" It's never good to be infamous for something that happened while you were under the influence of Mister Booze.

Usually, when someone is the subject of a "hilarious" drunken tale, they use the never-fail excuse: "but... I was drunk!" Which instantly makes their actions, however horrendous, totally acceptable. I have been lucky in that I've only had to play the "I was drunk" card once, while many other people I know are constantly needing to justify their drunken actions.

This is where the "pet hate" part comes in. I have been told a thousand times by guys that they kissed a girl simply because they were drunk. And I've been told a million times by guys that they slept with a girl because they were drunk. Also, most of the guys who say this have also told me that they don't remember any of it the next day. I can't help but argue with these statements. I find that if you are so unbelievably drunk that you can't remember anything the next day, it means that at some point you "blacked out" and were, at the time, either unconscious somewhere or just unable to move or do anything for a while. There is no way you could "black out" while shoving your tongue down someone else's throat (or worse).

The best variation on The Drunk Excuse I have ever heard was when a guy I know slept with a girl one night, and when he explained himself the next day he simply said: "I came home drunk, and she was in my bed." That was it. I just think to myself: surely if you were that drunk, you weren't able to do anything. Surely you'd have issues doing certain fundamental things. 
Surely you'd just pass out on top of her. No, apparently there was nothing stopping you from having sex, despite you being "off your face" drunk.

I talked about this with a friend tonight, after hearing The Drunk Excuse yet again. She said: "being drunk isn't an excuse for what you did, but it's the reason you did it". This actually makes sense to me; there are some things we do when drunk that we would never do sober. But I always assume we never truly lose control of our actions; there is always that little voice, a tiny spark of awareness, in the back of our alcohol-drenched minds that tells us not to do certain things, or that what we are about to do is wrong. There is always a line.


After a devastating incident a few days ago, which I have blogged and tweeted about of course, and spent the past few days going over and over in my head and upsetting myself a little too much, I hadn't heard at all from the person involved. He is a repeat offender in my books, a serial drunk-dialer, and an avid abuser of The Drunk Excuse. I saw him again tonight, which I hadn't expected, and from the moment he walked into the room I wondered if he'd even bother explaining himself to me. I tried to keep a little script in my head, storing a few conversational gems to use if he spoke to me. At first he hid from me, and his friends approached me and told me so. Eventually he took me to one side saying: "I need to talk to you." I steeled myself, and waited for those famous words: "I was drunk". But instead, the first thing he said was "I'm really sorry". I was floored. I listened to him apologise, amazed and almost respectful for a few minutes... Then he ruined it: "I don't even remember what happened, I was so drunk!" I looked him straight in the eyes, suddenly filled with anger and disappointment, and said loudly: "don't use The Drunk Excuse".

I truly believe in the well-known phrase: "drunk words, sober thoughts." I'm currently debating whether or not I am a believer in the phrase: "drunk actions, sober intentions". x

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