Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Now the flask is in the other hand...

Many a time I would be talking to my best friend, Mike, in Florida on a Sunday, bitching that I didn’t have any booze. He thought this was absolutely hilarious, and kept telling me I should plan for my Sunday drinking on Saturday. I would explain it’s not always that easy, like for example if I drank more on Saturday than I expected, or I dropped the bottle and now had a kitchen floor covered in vodka. Coming from a state that not only has no restrictions on liquor, but actually encourages drinking through such accommodations like drive-thru liquor stores, plastic to go cups at the bar, and even a theme park, Busch Gardens, built by beer people with a beer college in it… I was not prepared for being unable to go to the liquor store on a Sunday, and it took me quite awhile to get with the program; I am ashamed to say I still have unfortunate occurrences where I am left wanting on a Sunday .

This weekend, Mike and his new boyfriend were driving to Georgia, to see a Bjork show; I feel I can only tell this story by including the text messages I received. My first text message: (5:24 pm) “G0d, I’m in the middle of Georgia, do you know what they do to gay jews in GA? LYNCH EM, that’s what!” the fun has begun.. Slightly later, I get this little gem: (7:26 pm) “we just passed a Jeff Foxworthy outlet store. WTF?” I can honestly say I was unaware they even have regular Jeff Foxworthy stores, much less an outlet store.
The full horror of Georgia didn’t actually set in until Sunday arrived along with this text: (4:37 pm) “I now know the pain of dry countiez. nearest place to get b00ze is fucking alabama or back 2 fla. I HATE GE0RGIA!” I chuckled to myself, knowing that now he would be forced to go to a bar, and Mike at bars isn’t always the best idea. Like me, he can get rowdy, only in hyper-homo-drive, and also like me, he has no patience for dumbasses. At least I can manage to keep myself in check, where he goes full on “Bitchy Fag”… I like to consider it part of his irrepressible charm.
Mike (7:48pm): “We had to leave the bar early. ugly queen was hitting on Chris, so I was forced 2 threaten him with his own be3r bottle. He had shitty weave 2! LOLZ!”
And it gets better. Mike (9:28 pm): “I just slapped the shit out of some wh0re that was running her mouth. Had 2 leave another bar. My badz!”
We have been best friends since we were 14, thus I knew him well enough to know it was not over; he is nothing, if not determined... Mike (11:06 pm):
“just whipped out my d1ck on tha bar to get a b0ttle of tequila!! T1me 4 shotz!”
It all ended well enough, but this is a perfect example of what happens when there are dry counties or states. Are they really necessary? They don’t stop people from drinking, but instead make them become better planners orforce them go to some bar; pissed off people at the bar are fights waiting to happen and DUI's more probable.


Arthur Fonzarelli said...

I have written published rants about the stupidity of MN liquor laws. My favorite things about our backasswards state laws:

• Four guys go into a liquor store and have free reign of the place. One guy buys a bottle of booze. All four must show ID. Yet a parent is allowed to bring a child into said liquor store and that's just fine.

• Even if I go into a liquor store alone, I can rearrange the wines in the wine rack, "accidentally" drop a bottle of rum, secretly uncap a bottle of schnapps (and dip my finger in it if I'm really sneaky and neat a quick fix) and stand there with the cooler door open for five minutes, wasting precious cold air, but it's not until I try to buy that bottle of vodka that I need to show ID.

• My favorite liquor store purchase of all time: having to show ID to buy a bag of ice. Yep, I stopped to get ice in a liquor store, so I have to be 21 to buy it.

• As you pointed out, you cannot buy a bottle of malt liquor on a Sunday to enjoy in the privacy of your own home, but you're more than welcome to overspend at a bar and then drive home drunk, potentially killing a pedestrian in Uptown, because it's a sin to buy 12 bottles of beer in a convenient take-home package on a Sunday.

I'm sure there's one or two more rants I forgot.

By the way, I check for new blogs from both you and my good friend D Cup at least once a day. How sick is that?

Anonymous said...

Hey!!! I never whipped my dick out!! Or did I? BTW, I refuse to take the time to sign in for this shit so it's Mike biatch!!!