After last Wednesday night, I now understand why so many people enjoy a good beer or two with friends.
It started two weeks ago, the night before the anti-climactic (and overrated) typhoon, when my bestest friend decided he wanted to go drinking. Conveniently we were there to hear him go on about it for a couple of minutes before one of us asked the other one of us – the one with a father who owned a bar – if the bill at his father’s bar could be put on a tab. Friend With A Father Who Owns A Bar said yes, so on the night before a then-category-five tropical cyclone, we set out to drink. Or at least they did, as I never saw the good in beer. I just tagged along, curious about how fast my friends could get inebriated and what happens to them in a near-drunken state. All in all it was a good night, even if we did leave a little early, and it may have been then that I found myself beguiled by the charms of holding up a glass or two in the company of people I quite like.
That night had a re-run last Wednesday when they realised The Boyfriend was about to celebrate his twenty-first birthday (aka his debut). It was the same people sans our two big guys (one was out gallivanting in the world of dreams in the comfort of his own home, dead tired after a whole day of Engineering classes, and the other was busy making lesson plans for his English students).
It was a quiet affair, more food than drinks, and the boys weren’t as intent on getting piss-poor drunk as that Thursday two weeks ago, but somewhere in the middle of things — of me drinking apple-flavoured beer and trying to convince myself it was really beer and not just a more terrible version of C2 Green Tea; of them pretending I didn’t exist so they could talk freely to The Boyfriend (perfectly understandable as it was supposed to be a boys’ night, I guess); of him laughing with his (originally) friends by transitive property; and of me, again, watching Robocop with the volume muted, the audio instead replaced by the wooing voice of disco-era Tina Turner, whose voice is far from wooing, I know — something in my brain clicked and… Well… Y’know…
Drinking out with friends is actually really nice. I wouldn’t mind doing it more often.