The Electric Car Buzz

martooni-girly-300pxDo you like your buzz and drink your booze like it’s water? I bet you’d love to know that in the not too distant future your drink of choice will experience a price reduction, allowing you to consume more of this American dietary staple. And this comes from an unlikely source: electric cars.

You may ask how an electric car would fuel a surge in the alcoholic beverage industry. It will be done through a systematic reduction in resource usage and an increase in tax breaks, all while tapping into this generation’s never ending love to be environmentally friendly and economically irresponsible.

Once electric vehicles dominate the market, the oil industry will have to scale back gasoline production. Since ethanol is an ingredient in both alcohol and clean burning gasoline, the drastic drop in demand will send prices falling faster than your best friend on St Patty’s Day. Following the laws of supply and demand, ethanol becomes a buyer’s market, one the makers of Coors and Bud Light will no doubt saturate, making it easier for consumers to satisfy their thirst. Feel free to get your buzz on and celebrate the death of the internal combustion engine.

Electric cars are destined to drive themselves, giving brewers every incentive to invest in the technological advancement of artificial intelligence. Not only does artificial intelligence reduce drunk driving accidents, it also reduces the need for intelligence amongst drivers. A bet on a computer to drive three thousand pounds of steel is a good bet for us all.

For the people in this generation who like to call government handouts a means to support society, feel free to know that several tax breaks, incentives, and reduction in expenditures for local law enforcement, are on their way. With lower drunk driving incidents, you’ll see a smaller police force and reduced enrollment of DUI and traffic schools, freeing up funds, likely to pay for rehab.

Whatever will the police do after last call? Maybe they’ll look for real criminals, such as this generation’s sick pedophiles, murderers, and arrest those baby boomers who stole social security to fuel their wild retirements. Remember, don’t trust anyone over fifty.

Lastly, on a sad note, you may lose a friend along the way to advancing society’s plunge into the drowning pool. Sacrifices will be made when your designated drinker remains sober against the new wave of automated alcohol, refusing to binge and purge with the rest of the party. Who needs a sane, coherent friend, anyway? Many of us aren’t there ourselves.

Not Drinking is My Problem

Carl visits a shrink.Hi, my name is Carl, and I’m twenty-nine years sober. I’ve been able to abstain from partaking in the communal bonding fluid that assists in releasing inhibitions.

What was once judged a psychological malfunction of naivety is actually an ailment I refuse to experience again. I tried wine this past summer, and in five minutes a sharp pain moved into my forehead, renting the space for three days. This, from the amount you’d take of NyQuil to cure a cold.

My sobriety poses serious social risks, including: Crossing the line between refusing kind gestures and respecting my wishes; being sanctioned for committing a travesty upon a non-existent trust; severing ties that had not been sewn; and breaking bonds that were not bound.

Mixed reactions are expected when one learns I don’t drink. Typically, it is a question that screams I have crossed a moral boundary: “What, you don’t drink!?” I’ve suddenly become an anomaly in the social-acceptance-continuum. This reaction is inevitably followed by, “Why? What prohibits you from maintaining a balanced diet with a three-to-one ratio of fermented hopps-to-water?”

Coworkers don’t pressure me to drink at work and they enjoy my company. My family doesn’t pressure me to drink and they enjoy my company. In fact, anywhere that alcohol is not the central purpose for being there, I am accepted. I can hang out at parties of people I know who are drinking and have no problem. But bars? Forget it.

When someone points out that I don’t drink it puts me on the spot: I’m the poster they pinned on the wall, the center of discussion. Their pressure creates a sense of shame as others look on, waiting for me to give in and give up, or be the stick in the mud. I feel embarrassed because I have to expose myself to the judgement of others, when I didn’t ask for it.

It’s nice to be around people. To have friends. Real friends who accept who you want to be, who you are, what you do and don’t do. It’s okay to offer me a drink, and it’s okay for me to refuse.

I’ve lived with alcoholics. I’ve lived with people who don’t drink. I’ve been friends with people who have been on the wagon, off the wagon, and snarled up in its wheels. As they get older the pressure turns into advice and becomes, “No, you really shouldn’t drink.”

Maybe it’s shame that people are confusing with being offended when I refuse a drink. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. I’m not judging people who drink because they drink, or why they drink. I judge them for excluding me from being friends because I don’t drink. That’s the real problem here. My Not Drinking is Not My Problem, and it never was.

It’s good for me to get these thoughts out. I don’t dwell on them, it just sucks when the situation presents itself, and there’s little you can do but hope others will accept you. Women are more accepting than men, and that’s a good thing. Other guys just feel a need to pressure, but that’s for a subject of the ego and pride.