Last night my husband joked “maybe tonight wasn’t the best night to go out to dinner.” But it was Parents Night Out at our local gym, which comes along only once a month. Standing in line to drop off our kid, I noticed the wobbly blonde in front of me dolled up in green dress and 3-inch black heels. Even as a kid, I hated wearing green on St. Patty’s Day. It made me feel conspicuous…like a phony.
Yesterday I felt relief not trying to cram all that fun into one measly night. The only real memory I have of St. Patrick’s Day is that time in college I kept throwing up and telling anyone who would listen “It’s green just like the beer!” And that wasn’t a memory so much as something that was told to me the next morning.
I left the blonde in green to her 3-hour reprieve while my husband and I drove into town and had the best tandoori chicken and iced chai tea we’ve had in our entire lives. I will say the drunks steer clear of Indian BYOBs.
The drunks were everywhere else, though. Walking from our car to the restaurant felt like a video game where you have to weave through patches of zombies without getting bit. The girl zombies wore green shamrock beads around their necks and even heads as festive headbands. Some had sparkly shamrocks on each cheek. The male zombies talked too loud and walked too fast and left trails of cologne and anger in their wake. Crossing the street at a stop sign, my husband and I were nearly hit by a driver who held up a beer bottle in apologetic salute.
The overall scene bothered me, but it sure didn’t make me miss drinking. I’m still amazed how drinking until you can’t walk or talk is done so openly in some circles. I never noticed this while drinking. Last night I looked around and saw a 50/50 split of drunk zombies and those trying to dodge their path.
This morning I did go to a meeting. I know it happens from time to time, but the connection wasn’t there. I had a lovely conversation with an older woman sitting next to me, but I saw a guy I met at one of my first meetings and didn’t stay behind to see how he’s doing. I just wasn’t feeling it, but I feel fine otherwise. It’s hard to explain. I have a feeling of peace and hope, and I will keep my commitment to my home group, but I don’t think I’m going to hit a weekend meeting just to hit a weekend meeting. I don’t know if that makes sense, but it’s where I’m at right now, and it feels right.