Why do people drink?

I go to all kinds of social functions and I swear that no one who drinks has a better time than me, and yet I don’t touch the stuff.

I know I can’t tell for sure because I’m not them, but it sure seems that way.

Yesterday it was a business type of picnic. They had two coolers full of soft drinks, they skimped on the food but boy oh boy, was the booze flowing!

Back and forth they wandered to the booze coolers.

And the funny thing was that in the invitation it said straight out that the people were responsible for having a designated driver.

Yeah right.

I spent most of the time with a very nice Eastern European family. I wasn’t counting, but I  couldn’t help noticing that the mother and father had at least three or four alcoholic units (beers, coolers, etc.) between them in a matter of what four hours? I didn’t see any designated drivers.

The grandmother was having some too and yet I don’t think she would be driving.

And the weirdest thing was when the mother actually offered her sixteen and thirteen year old daughters a taste of the vodka cooler she was drinking!

I don’t care if I looked shocked.

I had a good time, I talked to people, I told some stories, and I went home without worrying about whether or not I’d arrive alive.

It’s the same with writerly functions. They always seem to have booze at them!

Go figure!

I know I sound judgmental, but what the hay!

I’m just being honest.