Monday, April 20, 2009

So apparently I’m on a caffeinated-alcohol-drink kick.

Buying them, taking pictures of them, seeing what color the liquid is, posting the pictures on the internet, drinking them and writing about them.

I think I might have a problem… I’m drinking too much caffeine.

Or, that’s what seemed to happen when I tried my latest endeavor, Fourmax, grape flavored alcohol/energy drink concoction.

After drinking the large can I felt… yes a little tipsy, but also over caffeinated.

My heart was going in circles, I had too much energy I needed to move.

So I made the obvious, responsible decision and started walking around Allston at night.

BOOM there are my neighbors I haven’t talked to despite living here for six months:
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey,” a 19-year-old girls says.
“I live across the street.”
“Yeah, how long?”
“Two months.”
“Well, like six months. But I’ve only been… uhhh.”
“Why did you say two?”
“I didn’t want it to seem like I had been living here for six months without saying hello.”
She said she had to go inside and I was left standing on the porch of a stranger’s house. Go me.

Then I headed over to the Whitehorse Tavern. Being the slightly responsible drinker that I am, instead of ordering more booze I got a soda water and lime ($2). For those who don’t know the “soda water and lime” is perfect if you want to sober up but still look like your drinking.

It’s fizzy in a glass cup with a lime on the side. Some guess gin, some guess vodka. You laugh at them because they are more drunk then you.

After that water my heart was still spilling in loops and I had to get moving again.

I decided to trounce three blocks down to “The Silhouette."

It’s a Sunday, yet the tables are packed, the bar is almost filled.

Unlike two Fridays ago, the place wasn’t laden with tattooed, black wearing, cigarette voice talking freaks. Everyone seemed pretty normal.

I chatted with the bartendresses, had a few Pabst. Had someone talk to me about why I shouldn’t be drinking Pabst. Asked him what he meant. Realized he must have been about 50-years-old sitting among 20-somethings. He rambled on about using hard drugs and the evils of government.

“Oh” I said.

He left, I relaxed.

And finally, FINALLY, after 6 hours the caffeine kick was wearing off and my nighttime tear through Allston was coming to an end… and I realized:

I actually had a pretty good time.

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