Pressure to Drink

Now it's no secret that I'm a pretty big drinker. Hell, I have a compelling argument to be a Dewar sponsored athlete, but there's times when I just don't want alcohol. As co-Queen of Sunday "too much fun can't work Monday" Funday, it's in my best interest to lay off the wine at Sunday night dinner when Monday is the only day I'll be working this week.

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But at dinner, "No thank you" apparently translated to, "Badger me with your carafe of Cavit, please." I get it. My dad does legal work for this restaurant and the owner was just trying to be generous with the free Pinot. But after the third time, I smiled sweetly and told her I am alcoholic. Oops.

Not to undermine those who are struggling with alcoholism, but honestly, this woman has no idea why I'm saying I'd prefer seltzer with my calamari. It pisses me off that she has no regard for why I might be saying no. If she wants to go into the office for me tomorrow, then fine, I'll take two big gulps and a to-go cup. Otherwise, no thank you means no thank you.