Hello, Sober Blog Citizens! I am back from my anniversary trip to Las Vegas where I enjoyed 80+ degree sunshine, public transportation, and a super cheap buffet. LV is an amazing place to visit and not-drink. We stayed downtown right on the Fremont Street Experience Electric Kool-Aid Acid Trip Canopy and every time we exited the hotel after dusk we descended into a non-humid Mardis Gras.
- BARS: lining the street, in front of every hotel!
- MARGARITA MACHINES: lined up like evil Slurpee dispensers!
- DEVIL’S WEED: wafting through the crowd!
- LIVE MUSIC: blaring from 3 stages until 1am!
I ASK YOU: How ON EARTH does one NOT PARTY under these circumstances?!!
Meh. I just don’t. Sorry, fuckers.
So after I return to my pesky day job last week and work five whole days IN A ROW, Mr. Betty and I decide to have a mellow weekend at the coast (from whence I type to you). We choose one of our fave restaurants downtown and are thrilled to be seated in The Room You Can See From The Street that has no discernible entry but is really nice. We get an awesome seat right by the window so we can see others coveting our awesome window-gig here in the RYCSFTS. I’m feeling so fancy I order steamer clams, and they arrive deliciously with rosemary bread (that is what one eats in the RYCSFTS, btw) and engage in said clams with my tiny fork. The clams are delicious, however the broth is decidedly boozy. I know a lot of food is cooked in wine. In fact, I do cook with wine (cooking wine from the vinegar aisle, obviously). But when we soaked our fancy-schmancy bread in the wine…oh my, I felt a bit tipsy. I mean, NOT REALLY. HOW COULD THAT BE?? Then I sipped my Bitburger N/A beer and reflected that I had ordered chicken Marsala…OH FUCK. THAT’S WINE TOO.
By this time I have convinced myself that I may end up COMPLETELY WASTED as a result of my devil-may-care dinner choices. Oh shit. OH SHIIIIITTTT!!!!!!
But it was fine. I quit soaking the bread and instead demanded butter for it and my Marsala sauce had a ton of cream in it, didn’t even taste the wine, so I just ate my dinner (SOBERLY) and then went bowling. Like one does. (Mr. Betty and I are one and one, in case you were wondering).
Back to Vegas: Sober vacay is not a prob for me. I love sober vacay. I can tell you all about it because I remember EVERYTHING. I won’t- I’m super boring. But I could. I remember all my trips and outings and parties and events and every little thing (well, short term memory loss notwithstanding). I have fucked up so many vacations by drinking. Great vacations to fun places and all I remember is shit I DIDN’T DO because I was either drunk, hungover or needed to get to a place I could drink.
Try it! What’s the worst that could happen?