A Look Into My Personal Hatred of Binge-Drinking Holidays

I am not a teetotaler. I drink alcohol whenever I desire and in an amount that pleases me. Few things are as wonderful as watching a baseball game with a beer, or the warmth of a spiked hot chocolate in the winter. And bourbon old-fashioneds? I dream of them. So good. I got all sorts of buzzed a few nights ago when I ordered (and proceeded to house) a mysterious cocktail called (not kidding) "Dragonball" at dinner. (Goku would've been proud....yes, that's a Dragon Ball Z reference, and I accept that I'm going to die alone)
I appreciate alcohol done well and with respect. I love hanging out in bars.

However, the following "holidays" have become (to me) so gross that I almost pull muscles from rolling my eyes seriously hard and sighing all grumbly-like because the embarrassingly trashed are inescapable.

1. New Year's Eve
2. Mardi Gras
3. St. Patrick's Day
4. Cinco de Mayo
5. Halloween

Exempt from the list: Fourth of July, largely due to the fact that most drinking on this day seems to (in my experience) take place in private residences....with barbeques!! Barbeques make everything better. And I am a fun person, dammit. I'm fun. I just don't equate drinking until sickness/fistfight to be fun. Buzzed = fun. Blacked out = scary.

Despite being partly of Irish heritage myself, I'm so utterly, laughably relieved that St. Patrick's day has come and gone.

So, what's my damn problem? If you know me, we've probably gone drinking together. Maybe we have plans to meet up this week for a drink! MY PROBLEM IS NOT WITH ALCOHOL. My problem is with people who grossly, recklessly imbibe purely under social duress, and almost always end up making fools of themselves. These are holidays where I spend the entire day trying to avoid getting puked on, groped, or committing murder.

Yesterday on the train, as I have for many years now, witnessed a green sea of people stumbling around, many screaming and slurring their words before vomiting on the ground.

(DAAAAAAAMN!!!)

Clad in shirts declaring "Let's Get WASTED!" I am always curious what those people would do if they saw their boss while wearing that shirt. You know? How do you explain that one away? I heard women screaming for vodka shots the way EMTs call for a tourniquet.

Here is my own psychological breakdown of feelings:
I don't like it because it scares me.
Simple, no? The resulting question and answer is two-pronged:

What am I scared of?

1.) I can control myself and my actions. But I cannot control others, especially fueled by alcohol. Complete strangers have touched me without consent, propositioned me, and challenged me to fights all during these holidays. I've seen cops in uniform drinking. Bartenders unable to form sentences. And while I know this is frowned upon, it has still happened. Moving through a day, and a city as relentlessly grinding as New York, unable to trust that people are functioning scares the life out of me.

2.) Alcohol, as I've said, can be great fun. I've used it to loosen up a bit, shake off anxiety. That's pretty common. But again, my problem is not with the booze itself, but the excess. The inability to function without it. Too often I've seen it bring out the very worst in very good people. Drying out a mean drunk is a draining experience. Loving someone who struggles with their alcohol intake is hard. It is so goddamn hard.

Now....just a little over a month and a half until Cinco de Mayo....

Perhaps instead we can have ourselves a nice glass of iced tea?