A little over a month ago, my ex-girlfriend Betty gave up the hooch.  At least by my besotted standards, I really didn’t think she drank that much.

Still, alcohol wasn’t doing her any favors and as her friend I respect her decision.  I’ve been down the road to recovery myself (well, the drinking part of the journey anyway) and like to make some gesture of support, even if it’s a symbolic one like reciting the Serenity Prayer before downing a shot of Jagermeister.

Tomorrow night won’t be so easy.  She’s having a birthday party at a friend’s house, a clean, sober, what-the-hell-am-I-doing-here-during-happy-hour celebration.  I promised to attend and  I won’t even pack a flask.

I don’t need to drink, really I don’t.  So if I end up ducking into the bathroom to take a few swigs from the Listerine bottle, it doesn’t mean I have a problem. I don’t drink in the morning…while I’m at work…very often, and that’s why I’m not an alcoholic.