Ohhh, That's Why I'm Drunk

A couple weeks ago, Dave and I had a chance to meet my uncle and his partner for dinner.  We had a great time and I was feeling very posh because we went to a very swanky restaurant in Boston.  Since I leave work at 4 pm, I knew I would get there before Dave and everyone else, so I invited a colleague of mine, Beth, to head to the bar and have a drink while I waited.

Being my poshest, swankiest self, I ordered a Maker's Mark Manhattan.  I drank vodka in my twenties, so I'm starting to turn to whiskey, which my Irish heritage is appreciative of.  Unfortunately I don't know many whiskey drinks.  Except what my mother, who is a whiskey drinker, always ordered when she was feeling her poshest, swankiest self (which is pretty much always).  And since I was in a posh, swanky place, I didn't want just any whiskey, I wanted the good stuff.  Which, again following my mom's orders, is Maker's Mark.

The lovely bartender made me a lovely drink and I enjoyed it.  (We'll ignore the part where I sat at the bar and changed from my flats into heels which I had pulled out of my purse. Again, I was posh and swanky.)  The drink was large, to say the least, but for $15 bucks it better be.  The cherry at the bottom was quite intoxicated in and of itself and no I did not trip when I got off the barstool yes I ate lunch and no I don't need help going down the stairs thank you very much.

Finishing our drinks, Dave and I said good bye to Beth, met my uncle and headed to dinner.  Where of course I ordered another Maker's Mark Manhattan.  And proceeded to have a lovely evening being very posh and swanky and ordered delicious food, had wonderful conversation and laughs and enjoyed the poshness and swankiness of this uber-cool restaurant.

At the end of the evenings, we said our goodbyes and Dave and I made our way to the subway to get back to the car and head home.  On the subway I turned to Dave.

Me: I think I might be a little drunk.

Dave: Really? You think?

Me: I'm going to text people in the car.

Dave: No.  You're not allowed to text anyone.

Me: Why?

Dave: Because you're drunk.

Me: Can't I just text Amy?

Dave: Ok, you can text Amy.

Me: And Cindy?

Dave: Amy and Cindy but no one else.

Me: Fine.

Dave, being of his faculties, drove us home and I proceeded to sit in the passenger's seat texting Amy and Cindy very deliberately: I'm drunk and Dave said I'm only allowed to text you.  Then I decided to text Lisa too because Dave would never know. (Oops.  Cat's out of the bag.  He's probably going to take my phone away from me next time.)

Cindy was at first concerned that I was sad-drunk as in I tried to wash away my worries with booze, but then remembered I had gone out that night.  Then she was quite sad because she wasn't drunk with me.

Amy didn't reply until the next morning because she had somewhere in the range of a dozen 8 year old boys playing laser tag in her backyard for my nephew's birthday.  It's ok, I forgive her.

Lisa asked me how I was so drunk, quickly followed up with the more important question of How are you so drunk before 9 pm?  I told her it was because I had 2 very large beverages containing nothing but alcohol (at this point I'd forgotten they also had fruit--so they must be healthy, right?), but the definitive answer should have been Because I started at 4 pm, what are you waiting for?

Me: I don't understand.  I mean, I guess 30+ more years of drinking helps, but my mom never got this ripped on 2 drinks....ooooooooohhhhh.

Dave: What?

Me: My mom always drank Manhattans on the rocks.

Dave: Yeah, that will make a difference from the pure alcohol.

Me: Funny.  She never ordered them that way. I've never heard her order a drink on the rocks.  They just show up with ice in them.

Fast forward two days later when I share this with my mom.

Mom: You did what?  I'll bet that knocked you on your ass.

Me: But you never order them on the rocks.

Mom: I always order them on the rocks.

Me: I swear I've never heard you say that phrase.

Mom: Every. Time.

So, apparently I didn't learn to drink from my mom even though I thought I had.

And I promise my brother will make fun of me for this because I can usually handle more than him.  Except I'm pretty sure he would have been done after one of these iceless wonders.