For years, I had been a drinker.
Stanley my sex bunny friend says I am very merciful with the choice of my words.
"You're an alcoholic and there's no shame in it," he said over a boozy brunch at Winestone.
Okay, maybe I am.
But like all alcoholics, I justify my actions.
"I drink only when I'm happy and I'm always happy."
"I can still function in spite of alcohol!"
"I don't need it. I just want it."
"My liver is still healthy -- and wine is good for the heart."
My partner of 22 years J avoids alcohol because it will cost him his life.
He's allergic and so whenever we go out, I'd be the only one drinking.
Our most recent romantic dinner at a new Omakase in Standard Hotel amused the waiter.
He brought over one bottle of pinot grigio and two wine glasses when I shook my head at him.
"Just me," I said.
J tolerates my drinking even though he complains that I smell of vomit (whenever I drink beer).
"So your new year resolution is what, to stop drinking?" Stanley asked, helping himself to more wine.
Well... cutting off alcohol would be extreme, I decided.
Cutting down would be more merciful to myself.
You see, I have no problem with my overdrinking.
And by overdrinking, I mean, I would sometimes start my drinking at lunch. And when I eat an early lunch -- say, at 10.30am, that's when my drinking starts.
Usually, it'd be two -- sometimes three -- glasses of white wine with a salad. Healthy, no?
And if I were to work from home, by 4pm, I'd start with a red. The pouring then goes on till dinner, and more often than not, I would polish off an entire bottle by the time I was done with dinner.
If I did go to the office, I'd order a glass or two of wine for lunch.
And when I got home, I'd head straight for my wine cabinet.
Nothing beats the loosening of your tie, the rolling up of your sleeves, the sound of popping cork from the bottle and the satisfying swish of wine filling your glass after a long day at the office.
Okay. Now that I'm writing this down and reading it, I do feel like I need help.
How did this all start?
Well, I blame family.
At the tender age of nine, my Eurasian godparents poured me my first glass of red wine.
It was after midnight mass on the early hours of Christmas and we just got home from church.
Being jolly Eurasians who love their partying, we didn't go to sleep. Instead, godma scooped up a big bowl of feng (a greenish Eurasian curry) and handed me a small glass of red wine.
It tasted rancid.
At 15, my own mother opened a bottle of whiskey during one CNY and said "Adam, as a boy, you need to learn how to drink. You might as well start at home under my supervision."
It tasted like kerosene (or how I imagine kerosene would taste like).
When I was studying in Australia, I was under a lot of stress -- I was the victim of Asian student guilt. I felt a great need to do extremely well in my studies because I had a point to prove to all the angmohs in my class.
And because I was studying too hard and worrying too much about my grades, I had insomnia.
So yes, I turned to wine to help me sleep.
Every night, I'd gulp -- yes, gulp -- half a glass of wine hoping that the rush would render me giddy and sleepy.
It worked.
But my friends would say I'm wasting wine.
So I began to slowly appreciate wine over dinner.
One thing led to another and by the time I graduated and started my first job, I was very comfortable with alcohol.
"So... what exactly are you saying, Adam," Carl the dense one wants to know.
I was about to answer him when I remember that Carl wants to know everything because he doesn't know anything.
But the point is, I've come to realise that my drinking is giving me problems.
During the festive season, I really binge-drank (on New Year's Eve, I drank around four bottles of wine on my own. During CNY, I drank half a bottle of whiskey when I visited J's cousin's home. And that's not counting my daily alcohol consumption).
By end-January, I realise I could no longer fit into my tailored work pants.
And being lean is more important to me than drinking alcohol, I said to the boys.
Carl nodded without knowing why.
Stanley rolled his eyes.
"Let's see how long you can keep this up," he said and poured me another round of wine.
And I took a sip.
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