I learned a lot of stuff in college, because duh, that’s why we go there. I learned how to adjust to new places and people. I learned when to speak my mind and when to bite my tongue. I learned how to funnel a beer and to be careful who you trust. There was one important thing, however, that I never seemed to grasp. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how much effort I put in, I was never able to perfect a nice, drunken buzz. It’s an embarrassing and sad feat of mine. The one skill from college that could have been useful in the ~real world,~ I was unable to grasp, and I’ve regretted it ever since.
You’re probably wondering what my problem is. If I binge drank as much as required in college, where did I go wrong that I couldn’t get a buzz? I’m not sure to be honest. Every time I drank in college it either wasn’t enough to feel much of anything or it was enough to forget at least part of my
regrets actions from the previous night.
About halfway through my college career, I became aware of my problem. I would go out with the intention to only get a buzz. I had heard such good things about being buzzed. Not only did you get the benefits from feeling boozed (see: drunk confidence), but you wouldn’t make stupid decisions. It was the best of both worlds. A world that I so desired to enter. I did my best to learn my tolerance and not push it to its limits. I soon learned the root to my buzz-less problem: patience.
I had none. Every time I drank, I wanted to be drunk and I wanted it now. I would down my first beverage, no problem and no effect. Down another. Same. Down a few more. I never took into account that the effects of alcohol weren’t immediate. While I was downing drinks to feel the buzz faster, my body was storing up the powers of the proof and waiting to release it’s wrath all at once. And just like that. Boom, blacked out.
For being a generally smart person, you would think that I would have learned my lesson. That the solution to my problem was to simply let time take over. But my intelligence was never able to overpower my patience and I always found myself waking up the next morning with blurred memories and no recollection of a buzz. Defeated by my own desire to drink, yet again.
To this day I still don’t think I’ve ever been buzzed. It’s like the lost city of Atlantis that I’ll never get to explore. A drug that I’ll never get to trip on. My friends speak so highly of the experience. Some even say that they get a buzz every time they drink and get to stop drinking and enjoy their night. Ah, what a life that must be.
Don’t worry about me, though. I’ll be fine getting hammered at the company happy hour. Completely wasted at my cousin’s wedding. Blacked out with clients at a business dinner. I could quit drinking altogether, but then who would make my friends feel better about themselves?.