Showing posts with label sXe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sXe. Show all posts

Friday, 21 January 2011

One sXe Motherfucker

If you read the last Woe (and if you haven’t, it’s not far away), you’ll remember that I promised to conduct a little experiment about being straight-edge in a culture as booze-soaked as Britain’s. To this end, I had three nights out in Liverpool. One where I drank my usual amount and had a decent buzz going, one where I didn’t drink or take any drugs and one where I got absolutely shitfaced.

The aim of my experiment was simple: is the amount I enjoy a night linked to the amount the drink? If so, in what way? Anyone looking to pick holes in the scientific validity of this, bear in mind that 1) I’m aware that I drink regularly, so may find being sXe for a night odd 2) this is mostly intended to be a laugh 3) I’m conducting this experiment on my own, so there’s no other results and 4) I’m not being paid, this is being done on my own time and you’re not being forced to read this, you ungrateful cunt.

Right, now that’s out of the way, on to my results!

1)The night in which I was blitzed. I don’t remember this night, but there is photographic evidence in which I appear to be enjoying myself greatly. Also, my friend Liam has given a statement (kinda) which says I was ‘fun’, ‘bouncing around having a laugh’ and ‘not an asshole drunk’. All good signs, right? Sounds like I had a lovely time. Too bad I can’t remember a single fucking thing. This, added to the fact that the night cost me twice as much as I usually spend on a night out (apparently, ‘it’s for science’ doesn’t get you free drinks) makes it less great. I also woke up alone, wearing just my socks and with a sizeable hickey. I may have been sexually abused.

2)The night in which I was sXe.
I remember everything about this night, and what I mostly remember is being very self-conscious. When sober, I’m usually quiet (to some, this will be an indicator of just how much of a drunk I am) in a normal situation. In a club, forget it. I added nothing to the conversation, which is probably a good thing as the conversation sucked. Were I drunk, I’d have more than likely thought the bullshit we were chatting was hilarious or profound. On the bright side, I didn’t make a tit out of myself while dancing. Although I found myself unable to enjoy dancing. And, for some reason, the music played in clubs is a lot less awesome when you’re sober. The ultimate plus—and all students will know this is important—is that it was free.

3)A regular night out. Well, I wasn’t bored and I wasn’t raped, so that’s a start. Nights out are a hit-and-miss thing, and the one I’m using as the control in this experiment wasn’t a classic. I had a lovely conversation with a girl named Ashlea (and if you think that’s cool, wait ‘til you see her surname). I went a bit mental on the dancefloor with Liam and his crew (they’re the only people I know who can legitimately be called a ‘crew’), but didn’t fall over or do anything too retarded. The night ended up with a pizza in front of Brainiac at six in the morning with Aly. Good times.

So, a regular night out is the clear winner for me, but the real question is whether or not sXe is a viable lifestyle option if you’re going to be social in a culture as boozy as the UK university system. Well, from my experience, yes. It’s do-able. It’s better than being completely obliterated and it’s inexpensive. I’d only recommend it to those with confidence, or at least fake confidence, though, because I found it pretty fucking terrifying.

Here I have a list of the pros and cons of being sXe:

Pros:
It’s cheaper
No liver damage
You don’t do anything you don’t remember
You’re less likely to do something retarded
No beer gut
No hangover
You’re less likely to be molested


Cons:
There’s no escape from social anxiety
It’s harder to enjoy shitty music
Drunk people are less fun when you’re sober
Your friends may start a Keep Nick Wasted foundation because they don’t actually like you when you’re sober
You’re more aware of the fact that you dance like your parents
Talking to people is harder
You may realise you have nothing in common with your friends other than incipient alcoholism

Dear Woe readers (or ‘miseries’, as I may start calling you), I implore you to never again look on straight-edgers as pussies, or boring. What they do is infinitely harder than getting trashed. The sXe among us should be applauded for their willpower.

Please give generously to the Keep Nick Wasted foundation,
Nick