Three weeks sober. Has it made the slightest bit of difference to any individual part of my lifestyle is the question? OK, so three weeks isn’t the longest time you can imagine quitting a habit, but it’s a start, a good one at that in the right direction. For me anyway. My direction was never intended to ban alcohol it just so happened I thought too much and scared myself away from the socially acceptable form of embarrassing yourself. Falling out of a car with my dress around my head and my ‘frenchies’ on show would not be deemed as appropriate under any other circumstance other than the fact it was a weekend evening and past 1am. Each level of shamelessness varies on the type of character we are. Unfortunately mine has no bars to hold me back after a few cheeky ones on a pay day Saturday night…
So I tried something I had never tried before. Being my own taxi driver and it worked to an extent. The extent being I am fresh faced and cringe free after waking up the next morning in my own bed and wearing more than my knickers. Yes, I stuck to orange juice and water. Was it still fun? I don’t think my dance moves rocked the joint as much as they normally would have considering I think I rule the dance floor and am totally hilarious (people laughing at me mostly I guess) but yeah, I had a good time. One thing that did open my sober eyes was the fact that, I can’t believe this myself, girls were incredibly acting inappropriately worse than boys. By worse I mean their drunken states were really quite appalling.
Firstly, trying to get a space on the dance floor that is half empty is a nightmare. Primarily because the drunken lasses can’t balance on their high heels and totter all over the place bumping into you and giving the elbow dance, blissfully unaware as they sip some more Vodka and throw their hands up in the air as the best song in the whole wild world just came on. Boys mistake this clumsiness as a sign the girl quite fancies a bit of him and attached himself to her for the next fifteen minutes in the hope he can buy her a drink, have some tongue action and a little pinch of her bum. For the rest of the girls it’s a continuous shuffle of trying to find space in which not to get an elbow to the back of the head.
Then I noticed the feet thing. We all know this. The grotesque sight of dirty, blistered feet of the girls that bought new shoes that they can neither walk in let alone dance in. I can hold my hands up and say that maybe twice in my ten years of partying have I had to make this conscious decision and one of those occasions a good male friend lent me his boots to soften the blow. It’s not attractive. We all love new, pretty shoes but to be seen carrying them in one hand whilst in the other a classy attempt of redeeming yourself with a large glass of white wine will never make this better. The mug shots on Facebook the next day will probably be enough to humiliate you for this mistake anyway.
As much as I would genuinely love to man rant and say that men are the dirty pigs who prey on us drunken ladies I cannot, after my sober night reviewing say this is entirely true. In one case yes, an extremely drunk woman a friend was looking after was being prised away by a relatively sober male who knew exactly what he was doing. He got no where thanks to the loyalty of friends. Thankfully. Standing in the cool night air I observed the nightclub situation from my new point of view and I was admittedly shocked at some of the situations I saw. Girls with dresses showing their bum cheeks bending over tables to reveal yet more of what lies beneath. In all honesty can you blame a male on the hunt to get laid to think anything other than that this female wants to be noticed and taken home? Yes, some of us end up paralytically drunk and our skirts hitch up but here that wasn’t the case. Walking around intent on grabbing, if I dare say, any sort of male attention there was no mistaking that these girls were the epitome of the what most men are branded…and most men I saw, amazingly were rather polite, having a good time with friends and enjoying a drink. It seemed to me through my new found view of soberness that the roles of the sexes, for that night anyhow, had been reversed.
Don’t get me wrong, there were the typical amount of old men perverts trying to chat up the younger crowd but when it came down to the typical outlook upon males and females I was silently shocked. For one I am not preaching about how anyone should dress, what is right and what is wrong. I am the last person in the world to be able to after all my drunken antics and rather shameful incidents but I did see that girls do themselves no favour by acting with the mannerisms I saw. If you want to go out to get a hot man to take home then by all means carry on, we all need sex and we all have different ideas of what is acceptable for ourselves. I know I certainly do and no one can tell me any differently.
Are Women as bad as men? Truthfully I believe they are worse.
Copyright © 2013 The Bella Effect