Social lubrication

by Red Velvet

Alcohol. The social lubrication of the nation, dampening the open pores of folk seeking a confidence booster or an innate ability to dance like a twat. Be warned though ladies, does the boozy Dutch courage simply act as a placebo? Yes it may make us more physically relaxed, but can we really mentally engage? Can we read her stare when it’s rooted to the floor, or penetrate her periphery as she mentally tugs down your zipper?

Take you: slouching sexily at the bar swigging a voluminous bottle, clocking a hottie tucked away in an unassuming corner. It’s a discreet word in the ear of a dedicated friend, and you’re making tentative steps towards the main attraction and her vital friend component for a spot of tête à tête on the lighting, the music, the venue, whatever.

It is in this moment that I am reminded of that important statistical caution that you only have seven to 17 seconds of interacting with strangers before they form an opinion of you, Worse yet, it takes them three times as long to change their minds after this initial assessment! This presents me with the internal dilemma of whether I show the object of my desire the best elements of my character with the subtle smell of tequila oozing from my mouth. Would she realise the stench if she was suitably hammered, or would we revel in the high of being deliciously drunk together?

So my newly teetotal and most wise friend has delivered a club night challenge to me, one which fills me with dread, apprehension and intrigue. “What about a night on the old Thames o2,” she quips, “and if it all gets too much, dose that with a 2am espresso or an energy drink just to give you a necessary pep.” So ladies and ladies, I am going to run this gauntlet of insecurity on my next night out, keeping the credit cards in the recesses of my gaping pockets. I shall speak with clarity and sobriety to my next willing stranger. You never know, stranger things may happen!