A Letter

Dear Alcohol,

I thought I’d take a minute to discuss some troubling factors with you. First and foremost, let me tell you that I’m a huge fan of yours…your many sides and dimensions are mind-boggling (different than beer goggling, which I’ll touch upon shortly.) Yes, my friend, you always seem to be there when needed — the perfect post-work cocktail, a beer with the game, and you’re even there around the holidays, with a touch of cinnamon, you warm us even when stuck in the midst of endless family gatherings.

Yet lately, I’ve been wondering about your intentions. You see, I want to believe that you’ve got my best interests in mind, but I feel that your influence has led to unwise consequences, briefed below for your review.

1. Phone calls: While I agree with you that communication is important, I question the suggestion that any conversation of substance occurs at 5am.
2. Eating: Now, you know I love a good meal, and though cooking is far from my specialty, why you suggested that I eat mashed potatoes with barbecue sauce coupled by a veggie corn dog and some stale corn chips (washed down with cranberry juice and topped off with a Kit Kat) is beyond me. Eclectic eater I am, but I think you went a bit too far this time.
3. Clumsiness: Unless you’re subtly trying to tell me I need to do yoga more to increase my balance, I see NO need to hammer the issue home by causing me to fall down the stairs. Completely unnecessary.
4. Spelling Bees: Reference point 1 (Phone Calls) above, but even if calling 411 for Matthew McConaughey’s number (in Austin, I believe) IS a grand idea, the fact that you temporarily suspended my ability to spell his name surely amused the operator. Surprisingly enough, he didn’t seem to be listed.
5. Pictures: This is a blessing in disguise, as it can often clarify the last point below, but the following costumes are herefore banned from being placed on my head in public: Indian Wigs, Sombreros, Bows, Ties, Boxes, upside-down cups, bras.
6. Beer Goggles: If I think I may know him from somewhere, I most likely do not. PLEASE do not request that I go over and see if in fact, I do actually know that person. This is similar to the old “Hey, you’re in my class” syndrome circa 1996 at UNC, and should heretofore be rendered illegal. Coupled with this is the phrase “Let’s Make Out.” While I may be thinking this, please reinstate the brain-mouth block that would keep this thought from being a statement, especially in public.

Further, the subsequent hangovers have GOT to stop. Now, I know a little penance for our previous evenings’ debauchery may be in order, but the 2pm Hangover Immobility (and the new-found-trend of morning booting) is completely unacceptable. I ask that if the proper steps are proactively taken on my part (i.e., water, vitamin B, bread products, advil) prior to going to bed/passing out facedown on the kitchen with a bag of pretzels, the hangover to be quite minimal and in no way interfere with my daily Saturday or Sunday (well, any day) activities. Come on now, it’s only fair — you do your part, I’ll do mine.

Alcohol, I have enjoyed our relationship for some years now, and want to ensure that we remain on good terms. You’ve been the invoker of good stories, the provokation for much laughter, and the needed companion when we just don’t know what to do with our extra quarters in our pockets. In order to continue this relationship, I ask that you carefully review my grievances above and address them immediately. I will look for an answer no later than Thursday at 5pm (pre happy hour) on your possible solutions and hopefully we can continue this fruitful partnership.

Thank you for your prompt attention to these matters,

-aubs

One thought on “A Letter

  1. Found in the wild: Aubrey Sabala
    Not too long ago a friend pointed me to her blog. While reading through the old entries, I came across something familiar. I knew I had read it before but it wasn’t until the name Matthew McConaughey came up that I realized it was an old blog entry of yours. Sure enough, at the end, there it was, signed “-aubs”. Given that there is no connection between you and Sarah, I found it remarkable that by chance she would have this on her blog.
    With my curiosity perked, I put a phrase from said blog entry into your employer’s fine product and noticed it has gotten around a but, though none of the other ones saw fit to leave your name at the end (and some had changed details).
    So now you’re the author of what is undoubtedly an email forward that gets bounced to drunks and lushes everywhere. If you create SPAM on accident, does it count?

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