When you’re still not up for Happy Hour

So apparently I offended some readers with my last blog entry. I’m not sorry. This is my blog, and it’s about my opinions, and this is where I’m allowed to have them. I only care about offending my family and friends, and so far they have all sided with me on that post, so I needn’t worry that they’re upset by what I wrote.

And it seems that ever since I wrote that post, every day since I have been inundated with more and more reasons to dislike people who drink excessively. The reasons are just being hurled at me constantly, reinforcing everything I wrote as 100% spot on.

For example, last week I witnessed a group of drunken douche bag rugby players hassle a young woman to the point of her being in tears. They were wolf whistling, trying to touch her up and making many a suggestive comments, among other things. They were relentless at it. They were only doing this because they were drinking – I had talked to them previously and all seemed like all right guys before they started getting on the piss. Thankfully their team manager shut them down when it came to his attention that they were being dickheads, but to me it only proved once again that not much good comes from that kind of drinking. It also did not help their cause at all – everyone around them just rolled their eyes and whispered ‘typical rugby players’. The stereotype that exists out there that rugby players are hard drinkers, won’t take no for an answer, think they’re untouchable (or that their club will protect them) and think they’re god’s gift was only reinforced time and time again that day. They did not do themselves any favours in the eyes of others. But they didn’t care. Like I said, they think they’re gods. They had no shame, saw nothing wrong with what they did, all because the alcohol they drank and the way they egged each other on as a result, hazed over their good judgement.

I don’t give a toss if you feel I’m judging you for being an excessive drinker. Maybe that’s what you are, and you just keep making excuses for your behaviour and continually talk yourself into thinking it’s ok. What’s more, I don’t care if you feel I’m judging you – because I am – because you are the ones that judge me way worse for only being an occasional drinker. For being someone who doesn’t enjoy drinking to the point of passing out. For being someone who doesn’t think it’s funny to have such a crazy night that you have unexplained bruises the next morning from stumbling round in a drunken stupor. For being someone who doesn’t think it’s cool that your $200 dress got ripped and you label it in a Facebook post as ‘must’ve been a good weekend if your dress gets torn to shreds’. No, I don’t think that’s cool, and yes I am going to judge you.

This kind of drinking is a terrible culture that exists in so many sporting clubs and workplaces and within friendship groups. And I think it needs to change. I know it won’t, but my opinion is that it should. Label me as unfun all you want, but as a commenter pointed out in an article linked – though it didn’t explain his argument very well – drinking is the second biggest killer in Australia. One day hopefully that will hit home.