Life's little lessons - Thought Leader

Life, what a joy and teacher of great lessons on how to live, what your limits are and how to behave as a man of stature. And life commonly finds it necessary to revise these lessons when you seem to be losing your way in blissful ignorance and excitement. It was so this past weekend that I got a rare opportunity to go all out and relive a bit of the carefree life I used to as a student and perhaps gain a few more lessons about myself at this stage of my life.

See, back in the day I had no hang-ups, I had no responsibility and life was awesome! And all the time to say the very least. And then I grew up and acquired stuff; a career, car, responsibilities to my family and my community and so living a little now and then and having a bit of fun has intentionally worked its way down my list of priorities and as it rightly should as one gets on in age and experience.

Alcohol remains a great escape for many and I am no different. One cannot always have enough time to take a physical holiday but a psychological holiday is one that is easier to take and requires the minimum of resources and time. But lately I have not even had the luxury of taking a psychological holiday because of the need to stay sharp and on the ball all the time as I lethargically, deliberately attempt to climb the corporate ladder.

It is therefore a rare opportunity for me to be at a point of inebriation where I forget about all those responsibilities for long enough to consider having a good time. This past weekend, on Friday, was one such rare occurrence. See, I had been at the farm the previous week and was bitten by some insect. I didn’t realise this until the wound was all infected and nasty and I was running a fever and had to rush to the doctor who confirmed that indeed I was close to my demise (I definitely agreed with that diagnosis, what with the way I was feeling).

The doctor promptly sorted me out with a bang of antibiotics and then proceeded to ask the magic question: “Do you have Myprodol at home?” I was overjoyed! I could take my favourite painkiller willy-nilly and have good reason for a change instead of the manufacture red diagnosis I give myself in order to indulge without guilt every so often.

This is how my carefree evening started. I was innocently sitting at my place on Friday night quietly watching sport, as I do, when I received word of the impending arrival of one of my good mates who felt no need to announce he was making his way to my place since, well, chances are I would probably be there and would be alone on a Friday night since I do not have a significant other to take up my time.

This man is a stand-up member of the Men of Thirst and a beer-guzzler of note. I had just taken my antibiotics and a couple of Myprodol because I hadn’t planned to go out. Cue my good man dropping by with beer in hand, which more than just made me wish for a cold one, I had plenty in the fridge.

True to form, in no time at all and between his speedy trips to the gents (he was suffering a bit of a stomach bug, you see) and him paying me back the money he had lost in a bet, and that which I had loaned him in a drunken stopper under the guise of me acquiring the whole Seinfeld series at a phantom DVD sale for him, I started to have a few beers. I felt good about my skill in getting him to inadvertently pay me back what he owes me — he is a bit of a spinster, you see, paying debt is not how he rolls.

We were soon joined by another couple of friends who I had plans with that evening, I realised what a good evening it would be if I could convince them that I was too medicated to take my own car so I could drive with them, they obliged and I then knew that this would be one of those nights where I could really go all out, not drive, already high on prescription drugs — I was going to have fun!

With the effect of the medication and beer taking hold, I left my friends outside the drinking hole we went to because we were all attired in sneakers and these were not allowed at this high society establishment. A colleague and his buddies were inside already so I bribed my way in and told my friends I would be right back after saying “hi” to my colleague who I had promised to see that evening before my mates imposed themselves on my time. We would then make our way to a more relaxed spot where individuals of our calibre were welcome.

I never came out! I received a call from my friends a while later and they told me they were on their way to another spot and would call me when they got there. They were naturally a lot less than pleased with my conduct and I do not think they are all speaking to me at the moment, such girls!

And that is where the madness started, at the fancy drinking hole in Cedar Square is where the proverbial cookie crumbled. My colleague was with a bunch of his friends, among them a couple of single females. What made me stay was that fact and the procession of shooters that were ordered on my arrival.

I can tell you that I was dropped off at my house in the wee hours of the morning under the false assertion from to the group that I was going in to change my footwear to something more fitting for a club scene, because sneakers drastically alter a person’s behaviour according to bouncers, and then we would proceed to a place called Manhattan apparently, but I always knew I would not be coming out because of my advanced state of inebriation. So as soon as my feet were planted firmly on the ground outside my spot, I bid the party farewell and as they protested I stubbornly walked inside the complex and into my house to collapse on my bed and pass out.

It was the morning after, while reviewing of the events of the previous evening and writhing in pain on my bed, not able to do much about it between spats to the bathroom to offload the contents of my stomach through my mouth that all these lessons crystallised. The list below represents the lessons that I think the evening was designed to reveal:

1. Do not drink with anyone other than *black people.
2. Never underestimate the drinking prowess of the nerdy looking Indian dude from the office.
3. Never mix drinks — ever, unless you are from PE and grew up with that practice.
4. Red, pink, blue, green shooters may look harmless but are in fact lethal.
5. Just because a drink has a fancy name like Jagerbomb does not make it okay to drink seven in quick succession.
6. Beer dumpies were not meant to be consumed in a race format (chugging), one after another, with the victor being the guy who empties the most bottles the quickest.
7. Pie should never be consumed after a hard night’s drinking.
8. Prayer does not cure a hangover.
9. If you take pain killers and then proceed to puke them out whole, the little that was absorbed will not ease the headache.
10. Not having Valoid (nausea medication) in the house is the single biggest mistake a drinker can make.
11. The worst pie to puke out is mutton curry.
12. Yes, it is possible to puke intermittently for seven straight hours without dying.
13. Your housemate will not come to a dying man’s aid. “You’re on your own, cousin!” will be his cry as he cleans up and leaves you in the toilet hugging the toilet bowl and goes off to go drink with all your other friends.
14. Your mother WILL need to talk to your at length on the phone during the worst hangover you’ve had in a while.
15. Puke collected in your mouth with cheeks inflated as you run to the bathroom WILL blow out exactly a metre before you reach any suitable porcelain receptacle with a drainage system.
16. Yes, some people drank more than you but you will be the only one who is hungover.
17. Women you hit on in an advanced state of inebriation will NOT call you the next day with details of where their company golf day is to be held as they had promised.
18. See point 17 for terrorising white males who are hitting on black women because you suddenly believe “mixed-race relations are wrong” just because you are interested in one of the lasses.
19. Pick your battles carefully; trying to get the two single ladies at your table tipsy by drinking in their territory (shooters, cocktails) will not result in the desired happy ending for you.
20. Stick to beer, beer is your friend, treat beer kindly and it shall keep you.

*Black — people who drink with an even temperament and drink only beer or only spirits at any one time and at one spot with no form of competition involved.