The Anticipation

by good2begone

The waiting may be the hardest part….but the fulfillment of the waiting is quite grand.

Naturally, I’m talking about the first drink of the night.

The simple motion of alcoholic beverage from glass to mouth to ingestion is glorious.

The wrongs of the day…gone

The mistakes of the past….gone

The about to made errors in judgement….gone

It’s good to be gone….and that’s why I go.

I don’t go there anymore.

But to understand how I got to here (sober) from there (nowhere near sober), I have to remember where I was before I know how I got to where I is…..

You follow me? If not, keep coming back sooner of later you will get it.

I was a bar drinker (period). I love the crappy neon signs, the smell of stale alcohol and cigarettes. The dimly lit atmosphere of a hole in the wall 4 hour happy hour cover band starts at 9 continuous shot special having last call at 10 minutes to 2 am watering hole.

That scene was my Mecca. My place to find “it”.

I went in search for “it” as often as possible.

My favorite part was not the getting drunk…..although it was always the result.

It was the anticipation of the first drink of the night at “the bar”.

It was where I always went and where I could always be found.

“Where are you. Where are you gonna be at?”

“Just meet me at the bar”

That is all I would have to say.

I would get off work and rush home to change. I needed to be there. I might miss something if I didn’t….besides the earlier I got there the….earlier..I…could…fulfill….the anticipation.

I felt like I was somebody when I walked in the bar.

I asked for what I wanted. I got it.

Every time….with a smile.

I wasn’t the guy who screwed up the account. I wasn’t the guy who slowed down production. I wasn’t the guy who couldn’t do anything right.

I was a guy at the bar.

Slinging lies.

Wooing women I couldn’t woo.

Standing tall during happy hour.

Stumbling out after last call.

Go home, sleep it off.


Wake up tomorrow.

The anticipation begins….again.

Fast Forward to now >>

I no longer have that anticipation. My mind does not race nor does my stomach turn when I see others drink.

I don’t sling lies around for approval…although I am no saint.

I only have 1 woman I wish to woo.

Happy hour is time with the woman I woo and kids we raise.

I now stumble because I am clumsy not because of alcohol.

I anticipate tomorrow as a chance to be better than yesterday and today.

Life has taken on new meaning.

The anticipation is finally fulfilled.