Aaron and I tried a “non drinking” test run at the Honest Lawyer yesterday. I’ve never really needed alcohol to have a good time around people like Aaron and Trolley. For some reason I already get pretty hyper and already act crazy around them, like I’m an energy sink. I’ve always viewed alcohol as another tax that I was shelling out for, like cigarettes or lottery tickets for some.

It was good to be more conscious about everything going on and not have to feel like shit the next day. Aaron wants to try giving it up altogether or drinking every other time we go out, but I’m pretty fine with cold turkey. I doubt I can completely give it up, especially since red wine goes with my beef spaghetti so well and the fact that so much alcohol tastes so good by itself, but I’ve never really felt the need to swig the liquid courage. The craving for an occasional binge will always be there, of course, but those are few and far between.

I went out yesterday with Trolley and Wheaties to a sort of gathering at the Cabin. We didn’t know anyone there, and just sat around while the gigantic group of friends there was insipidly superficial and obnoxious. Some idiotic drunk girl kept hitting my head with her arms and body (unintentionally) while she was talking to some guy. Trolley, Wheaties and I downed our beers (I had an EX, which was much better than anything they had on tap with it’s darker, richer flavour, but it started to taste like rust after a while) and headed off to the Dom for some pool instead. Sometimes I just can’t stand people, and yesterday was one of those times.

I did end up going to Ryan’s barbecue, expecting to only know about four people, but actually knowing about half the people there. Aaron and I bought a twelve of Vex, which doesn’t taste like much but at 7% and only $10 for a six it was good enough to get us going. I was able to try some Bitburger which had a nice clean taste. Re-experiencing some Smithwicks, however, left my mouth with a terrible bitter taste. The barbecue was a great time, although after flame cooking my sausages, I’m afraid I won’t be able to go back to my Lean Mean Fat Reducing Grilling Machine. After cooking my steak on a campfire grill last camping trip, I’ve been unable to look at broiling or electric-grilling my steaks in the same way.

By 9:00 pm I was at the Southvale apartments, feeling completely drained. Wheaties made us a pot of coffee while the other kept drinking. Aaron, Wheaties, Trolley, and I fired up a game of Ghettopoly. I got my piece of choice, the pimp, and was owning the southwest corner properties like a…fat kid on cake. Eventually, the crack houses and projects on my best properties won the game, since the vicissitude of unlucky dice rolls gave me the cash money for some maneuverability. A great time.

At one point, Aaron and I shared a Cohiba on the balcony. I was surprised at how light and smooth the cigar tasted, although it had a very tight pull, which made smoking it a bit of a chore.

Double Diamond makes Jeff dehydrated.