I’ve been happily agreeing to mid-week trips to the pub, safe in the knowledge that without four-and-a-half glasses of rose lady fuel in me, I’ll leave at the sensible hour, walk right past the fried chicken shop on my way home without going in, and get up in the morning for a run. Meals out are fine, because I certainly won’t get a bit pissed and suggest we have an £18 bottle of desert wine with our apple crumble, and I’ll catch the last tube home, rather than dragging everyone to a kebab shop with a ‘really cool illegal bar’ (cellar with a six pack of Red Stripe in it), before spending £30 on a completely unnecessary taxi. Of course if you meet the right person, a sober date is fine. But I’m enjoying Dry January so much, it’s made me consider cutting how much I drink down on a long-term basis.
I’ll probably make myself a juice before I go to work too. If you have amazing chemistry, fancy the pants off each other, feel like you’ve known each other your entire life, and ‘can’t believe we’ve only just found each other’ then you’ll be so high on lust and infatuation, that one lime cordial will be enough to tip you into a euphoric Zen-like state. Unless you are impressively unfussy, dating is a numbers game, which means, by definition, that you will probably go on more sub-par, just about medium and downright terrible dates than really good ones. And if I do that (and if dating really is a numbers game), then I’m going to have to get on board with sober dating.
Even for a committed, drinker like myself, Dry January is proving very easy for three reasons: I have no money, I’m getting a bit fat, and I have an awful lot of work to do.I'd had enough embarrassing nights out; I'd woken up beside more than my fair share of unattractive strangers, and was, in turn, more than ready to bid farewell to the drunken rants, crying jags and battles with lovers, friends, cab drivers, cashiers and waiters.I also thrilled at the notion of never having another hangover.The old “I’ve wrestled with my demons and won” line? How about a simple, “I’m a pretty hot colossal f**k up”?It’s always a little awkward when a potential date wants to “meet you for a drink.” Telling them you’re sober feels like confessing to some horrible chronic STD.