There is one sentence that will assure a person a never ending night of binge drinking. C’mon, I know you know what I’m talking about. You’re at home, you have work to do. When suddenly your roommate comes home. They are full of piss and vinegar ready to take on the falling sun of night.
The only thing you want to do is work. You have had the mind set the entire day. Nothing will detour you from completing your mission. Minutes of endless heckling in your right ear followed by your left. C’mon. Dude, you always work. Just come out, it’ll be fun. “We won’t be out late”. He tells you. But then you feel the secret weapon of words which your roommate is about to spring on you. You try to stay strong but there like a cute homeless puppy.
How can you say No? The words spill out their mouth like a slow motion Sam Adams commercial where the guy catches the beer. “We’ll just have one” You’re caught defenseless. Because one beer really doesn’t seem all that bad. You rationalize with yourself thinking- Yeah, one beer. I can do that. I’ve been working hard all day. Damnit I do deserve a beer! I’m entitled to a beer! It’s a free country! I’m exercising my right of choice. My choice is to have a beer! You stand proud and posse with your hands on your hips as if you have just made a monumental decision that will forever change the future of others who may one day fall in the same dilemma.
After your moment, you walk proud to the bar. repeating the words-” One beer, there is nothing wrong with one beer”. You walk into the bar with confidence. You own that bar for that one beer. That bar is an Island. You and your roommate are the royalty. You both eye the crowd making eye contact with every beautiful person in the room, breaking them down with your confidence of drinking one beer. You order a pint of the good stuff. You tip the tender a little extra cause your on cloud nine of decision making.
You sip. The cold beer flows across your tongue making sure every taste bud is filled with it’s goodness. Then down the back of your throat the cold liquid sends chills down your spine. It’s the best damn beer you have ever tasted! You begin to drink it faster. You don’t want what ever is making it taste so good to escape. Your roommate and yourself simultaneously finish your drinks. Round two is brought to you on the tender cause of the generous tip. You consent to the beer. Cause shit, it’s free! You throw down some money as a token of good jester as you take the first sip of beer.
Then the most amazing thing happens. The glass of wonderful that you had earlier. Taste just like the one you have now. You smile big as if your the luckiest person in the world. Of course your smiling at the beer not at the hottie sitting a cross from you that you now signaled to unknowingly. The hottie and a friend come and join you for a drink. You begin to forget about work, your mission. The beer just tasted to good! The present company is just to hot! You have now changed agendas! Beers continue to flow as you make more friends in the bar. Coaching them in sing-alongs, telling jokes and table dancing.
As the hour hand on your watch winds up to twelve and passes. The bar begins to empty with people staggering out, patting you on the back as if you own the place. Your hotties have left, there is no more singing and dancing. It’s just you and your roommate laughing a way with the tender. Until he kicks you out into the rising sun. The streets are empty, the haze of the sun cast a faint shadow on the ground as you both stager back home.
You then remember the amount of work that you where supposed to do. Now your just going to have to do it with a hang over. You would have probably finished it the night before if your roommate wouldn’t have uttered the deadly words “We’ll just have one”!