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  • Writer's pictureNoel Leon

Raging Sober

I was sick of memes about abs and hairless vaginas before “Hot Girl Summer” even began. We get it, you’re waxed. Congradulations.“Self Care” posts were replaced with “Fuck it, Y-O-L-O.” Those who’d “centered their chakras” all pandemic, were now acting like White Claws are running out faster than toilet paper had. I dragged my socially awkward sober ass to their raging day parties mainly curious how dark they would turn. One white claw, it’s: “I just got my second shot. My dog is having separation anxiety.” By the third, fourth, fifth, it’s: “Yeah, so I was pretty suicidal in December when my Tele-therapist told me I had PTSD from that time my dad forgot to turn the stove off when I was eleven.”

I could already feel the fresh air of homless’ feces and crunchy crusted buns clearing out my sinuses of all the lemon scented Lysol. But, as I embarked to rage, my sponsor rudely harshed my mellow: “Your sobriety will be put to the test.” The only thing getting put to the test this weekend was my colon. My IBS will have people thinking I’m OD’ing on BBQ’d meats in their bathrooms… other worldly sounds coming out like a demon spawning from my insides.

Me: Maybe I should reach for Triple Sec to avoid an inevitable triple heart bypass come Monday.

Sponsor: Now, is that projecting positive?

Me: No, but I’m pretty positive it could happen.

Sponsor: Anything can happen.

I hung up and took to the inter-web (as one does for any credible source). Turns out, there is an effective way to have diarrhea in public. Thanks to the Huffington Post, I now no longer fear shitting my pants at parties. I found their article “How to Have Diarrhea in Public” in the “Opinion” section. Since when is pooping a topic of debate? Like, who pitched this to Huff Po?

Reporter: Yeah, so, you wouldn’t believe it, but I had a bean and cheese burrito…

Exec: Tell me more!

So, I got my nails done (red, white, and mothafucking blue), pregamed at Taco Bell, and then crashed every party on my block. I was like, “Fuck it, Y-O-L-O. I want all the cheese on my goddamn burger. Pour that relish straight in my mouth.”

I could already tell the pandemic was over in LA. Because, my neighbor went from sobbing every night to having random dudes over. So, that seemed to be an improvement…I thought maybe I’d find a date of my own at these parties or, at the very least, test out my new standup material. (I’d practiced on homeless people and my dog with mixed reviews.) Guys use humor all the time to get laid. So, if someone happened to fall in love with me, I wouldn’t be surprised. And, drunks are my primary audience. There’s a reason it’s a two drink minimum at comedy clubs.

I come across kind of drunk or high when totally sober. I’m told I seem “aloof,” whatever that means… If it means I’m in my own world, I totally already knew that. It’s an asset at parties. When people offer you a drink, you can say no and still look cool. And, by cool I mean weird enough to naturally be on the level of anyone drunk. The only downside to not actuallybeing on their level is remembering all the inane small talk. We’re all forced to converse out of sheer desperation for any form of human contact after being isolation for so long. I can tell how uncomfortable I’m making someone by how many sips of beer they take. One sip, and this conversation might be going somewhere… chugging it, they’re thinking “I hope she doesn’t ask me a question. This girl is insane.”

I get it. Nodding along to other people’s nonsense is exhausting. In my case, it’s exhausting pretending to be normal. This is why it’s so counterintuitive to socialize sober. When I told my friends I was attending parties, they were like “Really?! Without drinking?!” It was like I told them I’d decided not to wear clothes: “Really?! Totally naked?!” And, people look at you like the Headless Horseman from Harry Potter, trotting around like a total freak.

Partier: “Do you see that girl holding her head under her arm like a football.”

Other Partier: “Yah.”

Partier: “She’s totally sober.”

Other Partier: “Nah brah?! How does her head tell her arm what to do?”

Partier: “I have no clue.”

I did meet some winners over the weekend. “Brad” told me: “Did you know alcohol slows your thoughts down? Yeah, it’s something about the alpha and beta waves in your brain.” I took a hint and shut up for a moment as he continued with a nonsensical spiel about mushrooms. “Keith” (who I think was hitting on me… I can never really tell) complimented how fit I looked and volunteered the information that his friend had gained 100lbs during the pandemic. Cool story brah.

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