A friend of mine called me recently and commented that my articles were often directed at the fairer sex. It isn’t entirely my fault, if I had a dollar every time a girl turned me down I could hire Warren Buffet as my butler and if we are talking of age from pre puberty days then I would hire Steve Wozniak for tech support. So the penning’s aren’t completely coincidental that make sound me like a chick lit writer who finds mirth in painting pink rainbow and giggling amongst butterfly farts.

So for a change this post is going to be about how we guys behave in company of liquor and how where our conversations lead us. I don’t do social drinking in excess, i.e. I neither socialize nor drink. And no my phallus is bigger than yours; I challenge you to drink more than me doesn’t work on me. I always give that Freudian argument a pass. I never want others to second guess what I think and I am quite always on my guard.

So the party usually kicks off, with everyone pitching in with their choice of drinks in a circle. The faces light up almost immediately, and thanks to an early midlife crisis the only thing that would excite us as much is a rise in stock market. Usually the guy who gets the most booze will start to size up the glasses and double measure it before allowing the holy liquid to descend.

A small head count is made as to how many guys are going to participate in the ritual; almost all such parties have a couple of teetotalers who are the prime culprits in rendering the other gentlemen drunk. For they will slowly exhaust most of the side-dish and soda, and even if you don’t ask them after downing a wholesome portion of food they will declare “I am done guys”.

Done with what? Feeding the swans?

Round 1

As the first round goes down, depending on how acquainted the guys are it will start with their own famous drinking story. Now, the ones narrating these are smart enough to guage whether others will appreciate their story enough or not. Here the competition is whose story is the funniest. And the only reaction that everyone seeks is What? No way, you’re badass. And if some over smart guys like me question the logic of action, their prima facie defense begins by uttering the magical four words that typify Indians and how corrupt politicians/rapists begin their defense in court “Actually what happened was”…

Round "That bitch"

Unrequited love is the next favorite theme, and the guy who is in a relationship is always envied. Especially if his significant other calls up during the session the single guy next to him downs a peg faster than you would cough to hide your fart. Owners pride, neighbors envy. The girl involved, not the fart.

There is kind of an orchestration in this rage against the women folks. Almost every guy I know has been wronged by a girl or two and I really wonder why? We do seem pleasant otherwise. And more the sad your story is the better bond you shall form amongst your new found brothers. It is dramatically sad actually. But deep in heart no one of us hates women as much as we would like to prove or say.

And I am sure if the girl who couldn’t see that probably doesn’t deserve the guy.

Round "Let's Get Emo"

Moving on the final act where officially the sober can announce that the others are drunk is the point when people pick up random arguments. For example, this sauce is spicy. Which deeply offends the guy sitting next to him who says no its not. One leads to another and each ends up with cussing the most ornate choice of abuses you would have ever heard.

In the end after everyone sobers down, the drunk guy asks to you what Dumbledore whispered to Harry potter on his death bed. “Still a Virgin”. Hehehehe.