Or mouse in this case. I don't know what it is, but I have a compulsion to drink when I'm alone. It's not because I'm lonely. I cherish alone time for both the freedom it brings and the feeling of missing someone so much that it reinforces how you feel about him. But the drinking...I remember my first post work glass of wine when I was 24. I felt like I was fully asserting my adulthood - I wasn't in a bar or at a party or out to dinner where my drink of choice was a Captain & Coke. I was sitting on my ass, at home, drinking wine because I felt like it and/or felt like I had earned it. My first time was with an innocuous bottle of Pinot Grigio (a classic beginner's wine) and for the purpose of my nostalgic reverie, we'll say I was drinking out of a wine glass and not a stolen Bud Light pint glass. Either way, it tasted so good - the way a right of passage should taste/feel. But I digress...
Somehow, this feeling of freedom as a symbol of my maturation has never left me. Wine is distinct from liquor and beer which only cheapen the solo drinking experience. I drink wine because I love the taste, the implied sophistication and because I can. I've come to appreciate the easy access screw caps in lieu of the pain in the ass corks. Wine is my daily salvation, redemption for the time invested in the painstaking tedium of each day. PC is the best remedy for a shit day at work, but PC travels. In his absence, a hearty pour of Sauvignon Blanc is a mighty comforting substitute. When he calls me each night before bed, I do my best to pretend I haven't killed an entire bottle (but it's only 2 glasses) and I do my best to bury the evidence at the bottom of the recycling bin before he gets home. After all, PC's travel doesn't drive me to drink, it just affords me the opportunity to reconnect with an old friend and relive a little piece of my youth.
