chalice26's Diaryland Diary

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Extolling the virtues of winoism

There are no more winos (winoes? Whatever, I'm calling them winos for the purpose of this little entry, so therefore I can continue with what I was going to say) anymore. There used to be people called winos. They would walk around with a little brown paper bag, drinking wine from it, and acting strange. There was apparently a special law that made alllowances for winos, because they were unique and famous enough to aquire a name for themselves and everyone knew that a wino was a person who walked around drinking wine, and people tried not to drink it much, lest they too become winos.

Now people walk around with 40's in little paper bags and nobody calls them winos, because they aren't drinking wine. And actually I'm not sure if people actually walk around drinking their 40's. I think they usually wait until they get in their cars to start drinking. But they don't have their own name, as far as I know.

The reason I'm bringing all this up is because I spent all day drinking wine out of this family sized bottle--but it was not in a little paper bag, it was in my 'fridge--and I don't consider myself to be a wino. But lately I've sat at home an awful lot driking wine by myself, for relaxation purposes of course, and I realized that they have a new name for winos who sit at home night after night drinking very large bottles of wine--alcoholics. And after that cigarette fiasco you would've thought I'd have taken it down a notch, or at the very least went out with some friends!

The difference in cost alone is enough to make me not go out. For like ten bucks with a tip I can get two schooner glasses of wine (if I get lucky enough to get a "large wine"). For like ten bucks at the grocery store I can have the same wine that they served me, in two large bottles. Now that's what I call a "large wine!"

Also there's the awful, creepy guy factor. Here in my apt. there are zero awful, creepy guys. So while some would say there's safety in numbers, I say there's safety in solitude (at least if you don't smoke!).

I wore my pajamas yesterday--all day. I don't know about anyone else, but I can't seem to get out much in my pajamas--which for some reason is vey popular right now with teenagers, but alas, I am not a teenager, so I can't get up the nerve to try it--even to the store for a Large bottle of wine.

All of the music I hear at home is music I like, which is reason enough for me to be here. I absolutely despise other people having access to the jukebox (what does that word mean anyway? What's a juke?) And I'm sure the rest of the world feels the same about me, so staying home is really doing myself and the rest of the world a favor.

The truth is, I don't really prefer wine, be it cheap or expensive, but here they don't sell hard liquor in the grocery stores, and I don't see the point in making a special trip, just for that, so I'm not even actually a wino at heart. I'm really more of a rumo. Is it awful that that just made me laugh?

12:41 p.m. - 2002-09-14
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