there is nothing worse than ... obligatory drunkenness
Fancy a beer? Or two. How about 20? How about we stay out till 4 am tonight. How about you go home at dawn looking very crumpled, with sick on your shoes and a hangover that lasts a week? What do you mean you want to go home! Come on. Let's have one more. And then another. And then one for the road. And then we could stop off somewhere. I know, in that small place, we can have just one cheeky half. Just one.
Come on, man, you've not got much on in the morning. And anyway fella, it's not everyday that: you get married; you get divorced; you land a good job; you get the sack; you play a good round of golf, you play a bad round of golf; you become a father, you don't become a father. It's not everyday you ... Oh dear, I've forgotten. Well, let's have another drink anyway.
You'll notice the word 'man' here. Although women are also press-ganged into these back-slapping, glass-swilling sessions of obligatory drunkenness (and yes, they do look as pathetic as their male counterparts), by and large the 'just one more' environment is the male's domain. It's a sad fact-of-life: males force each other to drink because they are too sad, too weak, too pathetic to just say 'no'. Men are weaker than women. Females know it, other males know it, even the family dog knows it. Still, not to worry, let's just have another one for the road.
During such 'celebrations', it takes just one man to keep everyone's drinking elbow well-oiled and functioning properly. One super-inhuman, beer-guzzling ringleader invoking macho consciousness to steer the group further down that raucous road to drunkenness. It's might be a different ringleader each time, but each one is as dangerous as the last, and as menacing as the next. There is no escaping him. One man committing the whole group to impaired vision, self-pity and vague, fuzzy-headed recollections tinged with guilt and shame. Still, it's not that bad, fancy another one? Observe this game as a sober bystander and you will see this hanky-panky for what it really is.
I saw a victim of obligatory drunkenness last week, slumped on a set of steps near the bottom of Lan Kwai Fong. He was a Caucasian 'gentleman' in his late fifties, dressed in a smart grey suit, expensive tie and well-made leather shoes. He was soaking wet because it was pouring with rain and he couldn't move out of the way. Pathetically lolling with his head resting half in hands and half in his lap and lurching from side to side. Steadily getting wetter and wetter, he was too blind drunk to move a few feet to escape the torrents of rain. Passing males greeted his predicament with a wry, knowing smile. It's really funny, you see. Until that someone happens to be you. Still, fair's fair, fancy a drink, go on, just one more ...
