I have a confession to make: I'm really not a lush. I think I am, at best, a lush poser. All this time I've had a misguided view of what a lush is. This was brought to my attention when a friend cracked up upon hearing that I am the Traveling Lush. "You? When did you graduate to being a functional alcoholic?"
The definition for "lush" varies, as a quick search of UrbanDictionary.com proves, but there is an overarching theme: in America, a lush is a drunken sot.
Now, don't get me wrong: I like my drinks. Bring on the shots, the cocktails, the wine, the champagne and whatever else your credit card can handle for the night. It's not rare to find me enjoying a glass of wine ... by myself, while I do my homework.
However, there is one main difference between me and the lush friends I have: all my drunken escapades have instilled in me a sense of moderation. Experience has taught me that being a true lush usually has consequences that overshadow whatever fun occurs earlier in the night. What I haven't learned first hand, I've learned from lushin' friends.
1. Being a lush is costly, in terms of both time and non-drink related expenses. One of my earliest lessons: if only I had remained a notch under outright drunkenness, I probably wouldn't have fallen asleep on the bus on my way home. I wouldn't have woken up as the bus pulled through a remote fishing village toward the end of its route. I wouldn't have had to take a taxi home. It cost me more to get home from [unknown location] by cab than if I had taken a taxi home from the club in the first place.
A drunken friend once boarded a ferry while visiting a friend's house. She fell asleep to the rocking of the boat, only to wake up back at her departure point. Not only that, but she actually got off the boat and exited the terminal before realizing that she was back at square one. Being that there are no water taxis, she had to wait another hour for the next departure.
2. Being a lush tends to make you ill. Last week, I advised against replacing more than 50 percent of water with alcohol when making Jell-o shots. Retrospectively, after actually making those shots, I should also have advised against spoon-feeding friends this Jell-o. In fact, I would advise against any mass consumption of this Jell-o via any method.
Obviously, somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I knew that 10 hulking tablespoons full of vodka Jell-o equates to about five shots. "Psh, five shots," I hear readers scoffing. Ten spoonfuls of vodka Jell-o can be downed much more rapidly and with more ease than five shots are, however. Couple that with some wine and a glass of "punch," and I was physically unable to remain at the party. I headed home in desperate need for something to eat, a measly hour-and-a-half into the party. Others, ahem, did not make quite as dignified an exit, instead waking up curled up on the floor the next morning.
Lushes may not only drink everything, but also anything. "What is this?" you ask your friend, noticing the twinkle in her eyes. "My special sangria," comes the cryptic answer. Her special sangria may well turn out to consist of everything she could find in her fridge. Drinking this sangria may result in you waking up the next morning "feeling malarial," reports a fellow sangria victim.
3. Lushing may result in unexpected showers. Jell-o shots and mystery sangria are not the only things to watch out for. Sugary drinks speed up the metabolism of alcohol, which means that you'll get drunker faster. An old roommate somehow managed to finish a bottle of Aliz?© on her own before we headed off to a Latin Way party. Needless to say, she was soon in need of water. The kitchen was full, so I pulled her into the bathroom. I turned to get water from the sink, when I suddenly heard the shower starting up. "I need water!" she protested as I pulled her away and switched off the water. Thrusting the freshly-collected glass of water into her hands, I tugged my dripping friend out of the bathroom and back to our own dorm amidst some very amused glances.
4. Lushes spill interesting opinions usually suppressed when sober. This transcript of a taboo session sums it up.
Then-boyfriend: Denise is a ...
Aforementioned ex-roommate: Bitch!
Ex-boyfriend: No!
Ex-roommate: Whore! Slut!
Ex-boyfriend: No!!
Thanks, cough, Michelle, cough.
5. Lushes tend to fall asleep in beds other than their own. Amongst friends who retreat into someone's bedroom for some post-party chatter, this usually ends in nothing but hilarity and perhaps some embarrassment. You might wake up to find someone's foot in your face or your hand on your roommate's boob.
Falling asleep in the bed of a relative stranger, however (what kind of friends desert you there?), is a whole different issue. In the best case scenario (well, depending on how one looks at it,) this may lead to absolutely nothing. In the worst case, however, girls and boys end up in a romp that they never intended to take place.
Life, and especially youth, wouldn't have been nearly as fulfilling or interesting if none of this craziness had occurred. But as I look back on all that has ever happened to me and friends in various states of intoxication, I would not want my life to be one endless stint of drinks and debauchery.
If that demotes me to the rank of lush wannabe, I'll accept that position graciously. The Daily needs someone who can remember her nights out and stay sober long enough to write something at least half coherent, anyway.
