The Luv Doc: A Solid C-Minus

Dear Luv Doc,

Are you fun to drink beer with or are you totally annoying? My wife said that I would have to be very tolerant of you monologuing but I think you would have lots of good stories. Besides, you are a smart guy, right? That’s not a rhetorical question. Anyway, do your friends like drinking beer with you?

– BeerCurious

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First of all, I would like to state for the record that my preferred adult beverage is tequila – preferably of a reposado tint, but I will suffer through an añejo or a blanco if somebody else is buying. These days, however, due primarily to a ruthlessly pessimistic prognosis regarding my liver health a few years ago, I mainly drink beer ... if I’m drinking at all. Fortunately it’s not the shitty domestic 3.2 swill I used to have to funnel to get an effective buzz, but more complex, hazy IPAs and the like – the kind of craft brews that I spent the first 40 or so years of my life shitting on because ... well ... what self-respecting binge drinker lets alcohol linger on the palate unnecessarily? The idea of holding an alcoholic beverage in my mouth long enough to actually taste it seemed preposterous. Here’s something I learned disturbingly late in life: Not everyone drinks to get drunk. It even feels strange to type that, but I have been led to believe it’s correct. I had no idea my gastroenterologist would be such a Debbie Downer.

All of the preceding is to say that, in my opinion, I am definitely not as fun to drink with as I used to be. I can’t imagine that in the last half-decade anyone has described a drinking sesh with me as “epic.” Conversely, depending on your vibe, maybe drinking with me is a much more tolerable experience these days. I’m not sure anyone would describe me as a smart guy, but now that my thoughts are mostly unfettered by the haze of inebriation, they pour out of my head in a torrent. I sometimes have to catch myself and put the brakes on what I know will be a spectacular monologue because ... well ... there are other people in the conversation. Therapy! Huzzah!

Still, I wouldn’t trust myself to give you an accurate assessment, so I enlisted the help of my drinking buddy Marcus. It was shocking. Here I was hoping for a scathing indictment of my contributions to humanity, but instead he wrote the following, which is, by even the most pessimistic appraisal, a solid C-minus. That means I graduate.

First off, one must be prepared to sit back and let him dominate the conversation. Though he will on occasion shut up and listen, he’ll generally have a story that beats yours after you’re done telling it. Then there’s his conversation-busting laughter. This is generally brought about by his incredulousness at the human condition or some personal revelation you’ve shared with him that he’s now indirectly ridiculing. Sometimes directly, so be careful what you share if you’re the sensitive type. Rare is the occasion you venture out and he is not recognized by his ... I don’t want to say fans as much as ... connections – though he does have fans. As best I can tell, his fans love him despite his bizarre observations and obtuse sense of humor. One positive note, I suppose, it’s occasionally possible to connect with them if they’re unable to get his attention. I mean, it’s not all horrible. He gets his entry comped, gets free drinks and swag, he can get attention anywhere he goes, and he’s happy to share in this bounty ... well, minus the attention. You’re lucky if he introduces you when he’s being adored. If you choose to subject yourself to this, whatever you do, don’t let him drive ... unless you’re fond of taking the most inefficient route to your destination.