"I'm just going to go out for ONE drink, then go home, eat a salad and go to bed early. That way I won't waste all my money and I'll be nice and fresh for a long day of studying tomorrow" - said everybody, ever.
Yet we always end up doing the exact opposite. More often than not, you wake up on the bathroom floor or in someone's backyard, cold as a popsicle, with a mile long Snapchat record and a serious post-partying anxiety attack. And not to mention the mother of all hangovers. Considering that I am not adult enough yet to take responsibility for my own actions, I choose to blame these misfortunes on our #1 frenemy: ALCOHOL. Here are some lies that the evil genius itself regularly tells us:
1. You're a good dancer.
When your friends yell “whooo, girl you dance like Beyoncé”, it’s a sure sign you should either stop drinking or get new friends - because it's an absolute fucking lie. After two bottles of wine and a litre of tequila, you resemble an epileptic badger more so than you resemble Beyoncé. I'm all for shaking it out, dancing until dawn and doing whatever floats your boat, but for the glove of Michael Jackson, tequila and twerking are not your bffs. Project twerk should be ditched immediately after midnight.
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2. You're a good singer and know all the words of this song.
You think back to all the times you've sung this song in the shower, and the alcohol whispers in your ear: “You've got this." You know all the words, you should prove it to your friends, come on - you're practically Taylor Swift." Nope. Lie. Step away from the mic, get down from the stage, and let your hidden talent remain hidden, please. I beg.
3. You don't need a jacket.
“It’s not that cold, I won’t need a jacket”. Again, this is the alcohol lying to you, and all your male friends all wish you would realise this, considering they're the ones who have to be the gentlemen and lend you theirs.
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4. You can walk home, it's not that far.
“It’s only 20 kilometres uphill, through a cemetery and a few dark alleys, anyone could do that.”
Sweetheart, it doesn’t matter how many bootcamps you did last week or how fit you are, those shoes ain’t made for walking. And it is not until you get the brilliant idea that you should take them off that your feet swell up six sizes and you realise exactly how much pain you’re actually in. Call your mum to come get you, it's ok, she doesn’t enjoy sleeping anyway...
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5. It is very important that you tell everyone you love them.
Some people are more prone to believe this lie than others. Either way, we’ve all been there: “zomg I just love you so much you’re like my best friend, soul mate actually, omggg”. It’s always really nice to give people compliments and let them know they're appreciated, but chill out for one sec. Once is enough. There’s no need for tears Hunzo.
6. It is really important you text your ex, right now.
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No. Just no. Nothing to explain, just trust me - NO.
7. McDonald's is healthy.
You’re stumbling out from the nightclub, and you remember you haven’t eaten since breakfast. Alcohol convinces you that Maccy D's at 4am is actually very beneficial for your health. What’s not healthy about it? Lettuce - healthy. Tomato - healthy. Onion - super healthy. Cheese - sorta healthy. Beef patty/cow hooves mixed with some mystery meat is… kinda… healthy? Deep fried potato strips - well, potato is a vegetable sooo… healthy!
8. Your liver can handle anything.
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Three warm-up beers, a bottle of white, two rounds of beer pong, KEGSTAND, six tequila shots and a cider on-the-go as you jump into the taxi. Then the usual meter of tequila at the club, and everything that follows. “It’s fine, just keepin’ the liver busy.” No, any second now your liver is gonna go apeshit on you and you’ll be spending the rest of your evening riding the porcelain bus. I actually feel queasy even thinking about it.
9. You can speak Spanish.
“Hola, eh… dos putas con carne.. y…cinco tatas de camelo?” No. The only two Spanish words you need to know are tequila and tacos. Capiche?
10. The taxi driver is secretly a therapist. Make sure you tell him all your problems, in detail.
As if spending their Saturday night driving drunk people around wasn’t boring enough, they also get all the dirty details about that guy from Tinder who blew you off or a five minute rant about the bartender who refused to serve you any more drinks. Save it for your diary or your Facebook status and let this lad enjoy some nighttime radio. Have a wee nap instead. <3
