Things happen to you when you get drunk. Your personality seems to get amplified, or change completely. Different liquors affect people differently—I personally avoid any libation that makes me feel like taking my clothes off in public settings (not that I’ve ever done that… very often) or makes me want to throw a shot glass at someone’s head (but in my defense, if you wouldn’t act so fucking annoying, I wouldn’t want to throw anything at you in the first place).
One of things I find so interesting about alcohol is also the thing that I abhor so much about it—The drunk personality.
I’ve gotten pretty damn good at recognizing when someone “crosses over,” as we like to call it—that’s when you have too much to drink, and you personality officially switches into overdrive. I started taking a closer look at the basic types of drunk personalities we all seem to have—I, personally, can be the most bi-polar drunk in the world sometimes. I might be a happy go lucky drunk one night, and the next night I cry myself to sleep listening to some sort of slit-your-wrist music. Mostly, I’m a good drunk. Mostly. Just keep the fucking gin away from me.
So which personality are you?
The EXTREMELY Happy and/or Loving Drunk
The more this drunk drinks, the happier they get. They suddenly become very open with their hearts. Everyone they meet is a soul mate, everyone they talk to in the line for the bathroom is their new BFF. Every conversation they have is deep, profound, and somehow meaningful in an almost existential way.
These are the people who think that their drunken hook up was “love-making,” and they change their relationship status on Facebook to “it’s complicated” after someone buys them a shot. Bless their hearts, even if they are saturated in Stoli.
It should also be noted that these people are, usually, those crying drunks you see. Things are so profound, and deep, and painfully beautiful that they just can’t help but let the tears flow. It’s at this point that I stop giving them alcoholic libations, because I don’t deal with crying people very well. Everyone should avoid crying in public, and never because you heard a Ke$ha song that moved you. Girl, it’s Ke$ha, calm the fuck down.
Oh, and also, these are the annoying fucks who have to talk really close to your face, and usually have to touch you a lot. In fact, they touch you so much that it’s almost impossible to get them off you. Y’all know what I’m talking about, when that drunk asshole comes up to you and grabs your arm, and starts talking, and at first you’re like “ok, he’s just going to hold on for a second, then let go,” and then 4 hours later he’s still holding onto you like a Jew holds his money, and your just trying to pry your arm from his vice-like grip, and hoping there isn’t any permanent nerve damage. Sometimes I just play dead. That usually works. But, after having you scream right next to my ear, not only have I probably gone deaf, but whatever germs you might have had are probably all over me, so I might as well just let you have your way with me.
Girls are the worst when it comes to this. I don’t know what it is about alcohol that gives them super strength, but it’s amazing how sometimes the smallest girl is the hardest to get out of my personal bubble. Way to make me feel like a little bitch, girl. Get your superman-like strength away from my easily bruised body.
The Angry Drunk
Or, as I like to call them, “gin drinkers.” These drunks get mad at literally everything. If they don’t have enough ice in their cocktail, it’s unacceptable and they get mad. If their drink is too strong, you’re trying to kill them and you’re the reason the bar isn’t making more money. If they have to wait too long for the bathroom, it’s absolutely the end of the world, and if they had a gun they would just kill themselves.
These are my favorite drunks to play with, because they’re usually so fucked up that they don’t even remember the evening, or are too lazy to actually do something proactive, like hit me or call the police because I kicked them out for pissing their pants (true story). They kind of remind me of that crazy lady that used to come into the Starbucks I worked at, the one who called mall security on me because she thought I was shooting her with radioactive lasers, via my cellphone conversation with my mother (PS, I was totally doing it, you bitch). Except the drunks are much lazier than the crazy lady.
Also, for some reason, I always get a really fat tip from these grouchy pants. Maybe it’s because they are usually old dirty men and they like that I sometimes look and act like a prepubescent boy. Or maybe it’s because, whenever they snap at me, I snap back with just as much sass. It must confuse them, and the only solution they can come up with is opening their wallet.
The Violent Drunk
These are the ones you have to look out for. I’ve been working at a bar for a hot minute, and I’ve learned how to pinpoint this person before they get too bad. They are the super aggressive ones from the get go. They probably have small genitalia and have to overcompensate by beating the shit out of anyone who accidentally bumps into them in a crowded bar (how dare you, sir).
These are the annoying little asswipes that get 86’d out of virtually every bar they go to. And just for the record, if you get kicked out of another bar, the LAST thing you want to do is brag to your bartender about it—not really instilling confidence and trust in you, idiot.
I don’t like these people.
No, like seriously, I really don’t like these people. They can suck my left nut. I don’t go to your job and shatter a glass over someone’s head because I thought I heard them talking shit about my friend, so please don’t come to mine and do the same. You give the rest of us responsible drunks a bad name, and you aren’t fucking cool, or masculine, or tough—you’re fucking retarded, and should never drink again.
These are the people that I will happily call the cops on. And I hope you get your ass pepper-sprayed and tased, and I hope you wet your pants, you dumb fuck.
The Dancing Drunk
I secretly love these drunks. As soon as they start drinking (and yes, it’s usually the ladies), they all say the exact same thing. “OH MY GOD, I LOVE THIS SONG, LET’S DANCE!” For some reason, alcohol makes them think they can dance like Britney Spears (back when she could still dance, oh snap), and they try their hardest to own that dance floor, when really they usually look like a writhing hot mess—I’m definetly one of those kids. I’m a skinny white boy, and I look like a damn fool when I dance, but the only time I dance is when I’m knackered out of my gourd, so I don’t care.
Oh, and if there isn’t a dance floor, they make their own.
Personally, I love when I get actual dancers in the bar. When they start drinking, and then start dancing, they own that shit. And it’s damn hot; I always appreciate a good diva dance off.
But, a word of caution: Ladies (and lady boys), just because you had a shot of peach schnapps, doesn’t mean you’re suddenly in a White Snake or Pussy Cat Dolls video. Don’t get on my fucking bar and whip your hair back and forth like Willow Smith. Don’t grind on the pool table while people are playing. And don’t do a dirty dance that lets me see your lady bits.
Overall, I think these are the best drunks to deal with, because other than the occasionally over-zealous individual, these bitches just want to have a good time, and it’s fairly innocent fun, both of which I appreciate while I am working.
The Quiet Drunk
These are the ones you have to look out for, and I unfortunately fall into this category 90% of the time. They never act particularly drunk, but they seem to drink a lot. They’ll sit at the bar for an hour and have 4 shots and 2 beers, and act totally fine, until they try to get up, and the sudden shift in movement usually topples them over. I always get nervous when I have a customer who just sits and drinks, and their behavior never changes, because I know they are getting drunk, and I never know when they’ve had too much until it’s too late, and you look over and they’re sleeping in a pile of their own vomit. Or urine. Or both.
Now, if they are a responsible quiet drunk, they know when they’ve had enough, and they usually just slip out of the bar and stumble home without anyone knowing they ever left, so they don’t get pressured into drinking more—because they never act like they’re drunk, everyone assumes they are sober, so they try to get them to drink more. Bad idea kids, bad idea.
Personally, when I know I’ve had enough to drink, I usually hang out until everyone I’m with is too fucked up to notice my missing presence, and then I slip out. I deal with drunk assholes every day, the last thing I want to do is make another bartender have to deal with me being one of those drunk assholes.
And yes, that usually means we don’t get to have as many drunken hook-ups as the rest of you, but don’t feel too bad, we usually have a companion at night—our toilet, when we’re puking our brains out all night. I’ve found my toilet to be an excellent spooner. And there isn’t any of that awkwardness the next morning when you wake up—my toilet hardly ever judges me.
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