I live in sunny Fargo ND. In the spring/summer months, we have a recent hipster tradition here. It's called "Pub Crawling" and it seems that every weekend there is some arbitrary reason for a "Pub Crawl." This is inherently irritating for obvious reasons. None of said "Pub Crawls" are organized in honor of anything, beholden to anything, or charitable towards any cause. They are just another reason for the downtown bars to be filled with amateurs. Amateurs have long taken over Halloween, New Year's Eve, and St Patrick's day, but now it appears no weekend is safe once the weather warms.
The most irritating of the "Pub Crawls" is the "Zombie Pub Crawl." If you want to dress up as a zombie and go from bar to bar and get wasted, that is fine. If it REALLY bums you out that you only get to wear fake blood and overpriced makeup once a year at Halloween, God bless you and who am I to judge? If you want to get so wasted that you barf on the sidewalk and then subsequently fall face first into your own vomit, go for it.
All of this, I can deal with. What makes this "Pub Crawl" so very unbearable is the 1/4 of the participants who refuse to break character the entire night. These people insist upon moaning "brains!" while pretending to bite complete strangers, ordering drinks by holding up their empty glasses and grunting, and stumbling through very crowded bars with their arms selfishly stretched in front of them. I am often the sober driver, which makes such displays all the more annoying.
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"Amateurs" as opposed to professional drinkers? I have never understood that term.
ReplyDeleteThough I can completely understand how someone moaning, "Brains!" and biting you might be irritating...
The part that you've failed to mention is that any night bar hopping with a serious drinker can turn into a Zombie Pub Crawl; or a Zombie Home Crawl... depending on the hour. The point is that most drunks are good and zombied by the end of the night anyway. They shouldn't have to put on costumes to prove how brain-dead they really are. 'Brains Bro, Brains!'
ReplyDeleteIt is a fact, with a corresponding case study I am sure, that professional drinkers do exist. They ass-taost bar stools for subsequnet years. They raise children and mop floors with a martini in one hand and a Virginia slim in the other. They fill camel-paks with lemonade and cold hefeweizen on long hikes and know exactly how to remove cheap red wine stains from most fabrics...or white dogs. This is not fiction. Amateurs join 12 steps by age 23. Professionals sport that bulbous whiskey nose at 50.
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