Wes and I went out for dinner last night with some friends (at 8 o’clock! In the night! Who knew people actually ate so late?!) We were celebrating someone’s birthday so there was a lot of merriment and booze flowing amongst the celebrants.
The birthday boy, whom I’ve known for a few months, and who is normally quite reserved, fell into his cups a bit too much and the night went from festive to fraternity pretty quickly. It never ceases to amaze me how alcohol can negate any and all maturity you manage to cobble together between birth and present.
By the end of the night, the birthday boy was in love with everybody and so loud that I think the restaurants across the street probably filed noise complaints. The whole experience made me appreciate the truly transformative nature of alcohol but also made me wonder whether it’s correct that alcohol reveals our true selves.
Is it “In vino veritas” or “In vino obnoxious-impaired-probably humorous-likely affectionate-perpetual teenager”? I’m on the fence with this one because on the one hand, who we are is in part shaped by our inhibitions. On the other hand, I’m sure Freud would agree that our baser impulses, normally constrained by social/cultural norms, reflect a fair amount of who we are in our squishy centers.
Either way, I’m convinced that almost everyone is funnier after a few drinks. Also either way, this probably means that everyone is secretly funnier on the inside than they are on the outside. Perhaps we could negate our need for alcohol entirely if we all just tapped into our inner jesters?