Another Solo Mission - Drinking alone? Post here!

[Hugh]

Holy fuck, I don't know what to do. Today is the big Gay Pride festival in my city (in my neighborhood) and the noise is unbearable. The neighbors across the street have a professional style outdoor music player, and it's rattling my walls. As if my walls weren't being rattled enough by the bar and the nightclub at the end of the block already. If I get drunk now, while I'm in a foul mood, there's no telling what I might do if I decide I've had enough of all this goddamb THUMPA THUMPA.

At 10:30 this morning the Air National Guard did a fighter jet flyover over the parade to honor the transgender troops in the military. I thought that was cool. They've never had a military flyover over the Pride parade before.

I've been going to these Gay Pride parades/festivals probably since about the late 1990's. It's always been a big celebration, but now it is FUCKING HUGE. I walked by one of my old regular watering holes from back in the day, kind of an upscale dive bar (Number 1 Fifth), last night and there was a line to get in a half-block long. I've never seen a line that long to get in there.

So now I'm sitting here in this sweltering apartment wanting to drink, but knowing I better wait. I have a week off and I need to stock up on booze. I already got two boxes of wine, I'd like to get some beer, too.

This fucking thing will be going on tomorrow, too. I keep seeing strangers walk through the courtyard and I don't know if they're random or if they are guests of the residents here who are having a party. I don't want to be that grumpy old man, standing in his doorway, and demanding to know who they are.

It's gonna be a LONG fucking night. Maybe if you guys are on Skype later I'll join in.

[oettinger]

Fuck it just get wasted. And play very loud music, no one will raise a complain

[Badfellow]

Getting smashed alone is an art, and I don't have to worry about liquor-sponging rat diddlers such as yourselves drinking all my booze.

[Nausea]

Getting smashed alone is an art, and I don't have to worry about liquor-sponging rat diddlers such as yourselves drinking all my booze.

Who the fuck are you calling a rat diddler?

[oettinger]

Yeah

[Hugh]

3:30 P.M. and on day 3 of my bender. Sticking with wine for now. The fridge is stocked with beer, the cabinet if full of whiskey. Nothing is really planned. Unlike the Bender definition thread, I *am* paying attention to personal hygiene, and I showered first. Windows are open and the fan is blowing. Let day 3 begin!

[Hugh]

BAHAHA! I have a stack of notes on my shelf that I go through from time to time to convert into stories and poems. Today I found a vague note that said, "Senior Shoplifter. Mascara. Bags of coffee. Zicam. All for $20." I couldn't remember writing it or what the fuck it meant. Then it came back to me after staring at it for over an hour. An old man came into the bar I was drinking at one morning and the bartender went down to the end of the bar to greet him, where they talked in hushed whispers. It turned out he was a professional shoplifter who sold his stolen merchandise to people in the neighborhood - my bartender being his favorite client. How could I have forgotten about that? Also in my note that I wrote that drunken morning - "Old shoplifter complained that the hospital would not let him walk to Jack in the Box for a cheeseburger."

It's shit like that that keeps me going back to bars no matter how much I hate it. Bars are where life happens. As much as I hate 90% of the people in there, if I want to experience life, I've got to go to the bars.

[Nausea]

BAHAHA! I have a stack of notes on my shelf that I go through from time to time to convert into stories and poems.

Do you ever write while in and out of sleep? I've come up with some crazy cool stuff during those brainstorms.

[Hugh]

BAHAHA! I have a stack of notes on my shelf that I go through from time to time to convert into stories and poems.

Do you ever write while in and out of sleep? I've come up with some crazy cool stuff during those brainstorms.

I keep a personal-size notebook in my nightstand drawer, and while I have scribbled some things in it, I've never gotten a good story or poem from it later.

[Hugh]

While I was at the bar yesterday, I used the Chrome on my phone to find this website. I was going to show it to one of the people I was drinking with, but he didn't seem interested. My phone logged me in here automatically, I guess Google has synchronized all my user names and passwords.

This is day five of my bender. I'm going to hit the bars again, but I'm waiting until later. Yesterday I drank for twelve or thirteen hours.

I think I've figured out why I'm popular at the bars. It's because the regulars there only see me about once a month or so. They get tired of each other and want a new set of ears to listen to them. I guess I provide that. Two of them immediately left their seats and sat next to me as soon as I walked in the door, one of them even buying my first drink. As they were leaving, one of them put his hand on my back and said to me about the other, "Ed said that he never really liked you." Then a second later added, "Just kidding." Obviously, he wasn't kidding. I have no doubt that Ed really did say that. But he's so happy to see an infrequent visitor, he can't help but join me and buy me drinks. What an odd place bars are. But making an effort to understand them, how different the people there are from me (me going there to get drunk somewhere besides my own apartment, them going there for companionship), is making me like bars, or at least hate them less. I no longer sit there annoyed at everyone around me. Even Lonely Old Man doesn't bother me anymore. I just let him yammer on, even if there are two or three of them going at the same time. I always wondered why Lonely Old Man always attaches himself to me when I walk in. It's because I'm a fresh set of ears for him. He's been boring the regulars with the same stories and then all of a sudden I walk in - someone who hasn't heard his boring stories for a month or more.

[Rye and Coke]

Just reminding myself: I'm on page 26

[Hugh]

Had to reset my bender counter back to day 1. Tuesday night's episode at the bar took the starch out of me, I spent all of Wednesday on the couch depressed over my stupid behavior. I was dancing around with people in the bar, as I sometimes do near last call after I've been drinking for 13 fucking hours. And then I grabbed some guy standing next to me and asked him to dance, but fortunately, the look of shock and horror from the bartender as he said, "HUGH. NO. NO." stopped me. He's never spoken to me like that, in fact he usually enjoys my hijinks, but I crossed a line Tuesday night. But now I'm back home, drinking solo, like I always should be. If I could just get myself to stop and go home everything would be all right. Everytime I've gotten into trouble it's because I drank too long. I've never even heard legends about people who drink as long as I do when I go out. It should make me proud, but almost literally makes me sick.

Just had a new poem posted up at Dope Fiend Daily: https://thedopefienddaily.blogspot.com/ ... bWCwOzr11U

I submitted that one, along with two others, months ago and I was wondering if it was ever going to post. I've seen other writers get multiple poems posted since my submission. I'm glad I remained patient and didn't act like a prima donna. That's all I need to do - piss of my editors as well as bartenders.

[Hugh]

Getting it back to good tonight. Drinking solo, and not starting until 9 at night. That's the trick to making sure I don't go out to the bars - wait until it's too late to start drinking. By the time I'm drunk enough to go out, it will be too late.

I've decided I'm going to pay the extra dollar for a box of Vella Delicious Red. The Franzia Sunset Blush is too foul, even after a few glasses of it. All week at work I was working faster because I was in a good mood thinking about that box of Delicious Red in the fridge at home.

I've been working all month on a manuscript to submit to a poetry contest. I finished it tonight and submitted it. and right after clicking on submit, realized I had forgotten to include the page numbers in the table of contents. I tried to withdraw the submission, but it said I would not be refunded my $30. So I sent a message asking to edit it and put in the page numbers. Now they'll probably think I'm an idiot and just throw my manuscript in the loser pile.

[Artful Drunktective]

Drinking solo, and not starting until 9 at night. That's the trick to making sure I don't go out to the bars - wait until it's too late to start drinking. By the time I'm drunk enough to go out, it will be too late.

My problem is drunk Facebooking. The next morning I'm like, wtf did I do? Whoops! Sorry Auntie didn't mean for you to see that post! At least at bars where people are strangers, I don't give a crap what people think of me.

Solo missions are good cuz I can listen to embarrassing music and dance and sing and god knows what else and there are no witnesses. I can be my own strange self.

I heart the Lost Boys

[Rye and Coke]

Is what you say when the best laid plans go awry.

I was supposed to meet up with coworkers for an epic bar crawl. Instead I'm home, cleaning and fixing the wife's car, along with some things around the house.

No worries, I just cracked open a bottle of Redemption Rye.

My day starts now...