I’m not a “sex or” kind of person.  I’m a “sex and” kind of human.  Does that make any sense?

When it comes to booze and drugs, I’ve always been an “alcohol/dope or” individual.  Nothing about it or what it’s supposed to entail ever appealed to me personally.

Which is a public shame, because you kind of isolate yourself when you take that stance.  Let’s face it.  Drugs are great party fodder.

When I was growing up, I’d occasionally see cheap canned beer in refrigerators, other people’s and my own.  My mother and her boyfriends and ex-husband may have taken the occasional drink, but I was never aware of it as a sociable thing.  Those cans always screamed “personal adult problems” and I wanted nothing to do with them.

I didn’t have any friends in high school.  Truth be told, I didn’t want to make friends with the assholes I always seemed to be surrounded by.  I hope I wasn’t too much of an insufferable snob back then.  Therefore, I was never invited to drink or smoke or do many of the things adolescents do to navigate maturity in the sea of their inexperience.

I next encountered others’ drugging as an adult in the United States Army.  Weekends on and away from base were always soused odysseys.  No one ever seemed to be having any genuine fun.  Hungover drunks stank up weekday morning formations and PT with their stale beer breath and Jägermeister farts.  I never felt inclined, not even a little bit, to imbibe.

If I ever decide to start drinking in my advanced adulthood, it will be as solitary and futile and unsociable an endeavor as has ever been undertaken.