I’m very happy with my Asian genetics. It contributes to my X factor. It’s the milkshake that brings all the girls to my yard. The 69% discount during sales. The empty seats next to you on a long-distance flight. My genes also make it impossible for me to hide that I had a few drinks. A couple of sips of wine or bubbly and boom, instant Asian flush. It’s my way of getting free make-up.
I never had issues with this actually. The occasional ridicule from others yes, but nothing a whiskey can’t wash away. I have an Aperol Spritz feeling (this means bittersweet) about drinking on dates. I experienced instances where it seems I ended up at a sorority party. Is she here for the free drinks? Do I make her uncomfortable and she needs to calm her nerves? Or was she just thirsty because she ran a marathon on the way? Then there were dates where my humour was for once not the driest thing around the table. Did she go to the dentist earlier and come back with sensitive teeth? Was she savouring every single sip like it were the last drops of alcohol in existence? Or was she just careful not to trigger her inner demons?
Alcohol is indeed some sort of social lubrication. First, it’s comfortable when you have something to hold in your hands in a social situation (totally not referring to the dudes at the edge of the dancefloor nodding their heads to the beat of the music with dumb faces). Second, it’s a conversational topic and always leads to sharing crazy stories stemming from those wild young days. Third, it’s a crutch to get rid of some inhibitions, or for some, to become increasingly annoying. Liquid courage, if you will.
I drink for taste now. Not that I’m a big connoisseur or picky or something. But I don’t feel the need to get smashed or feel tipsy anymore. Yeah, with a few drinks in your system, the lines are a bit punchier, the hihis and hahas a bit louder and the topics a bit spicier. But let’s not forget the hangover.
Also, someone has to make sure the girl makes it safely back home. I’m such a gentleman. Cheers to that.
I know you’re all dying to know if we put Ronnie “The Rocket” O’Sullivan to shame. Well, we pretty much sucked and probably played the longest sequence without potting a ball in history.
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