I used to tell myself …
- I never “had” to have a drink. I only drank to relax and wind down.
- I didn’t drink every day, unless I was on vacation.
- Never got a DUI (I drove drunk—just never got caught).
- I didn’t drink in bars. I stayed at home with my Southern Comfort on the rocks.
- I was a social drinker. All my friends drank. We were very social.
- My family tree only had one drinker, my father. The rest were all teetotalers—well, maybe a few overeaters …
- I’m a nice girl. Nice girls don’t get drunk (except once or twice).
- I only drank in expensive places, like restaurants, and had only expensive drinks, like martinis, Manhattans, stingers or greyhounds.
- I never drank straight stuff. Except for the Scotch on the rocks and, of course, my Southern Comfort.
- My story isn’t exciting like I hear on speaker tapes. What’s exciting about sitting at home in bed reading and sipping a toddy of Southern Comfort on the rocks?
- I’ve never been falling down drunk, except for that one time in Miami. And then there was New York …