If a cow ever got the chance...

Saw C last night for the first time since the Great Drying Out. He brought over a bottle of sake. What the fuck? This was like 48 hours after I'd asked him to store my liquor collection at his place for now.

It was the ridiculously expensive bottle of sake I'd gotten him last Christmas, which we'd agreed to drink together sometime. After I expressed dismay at its sudden appearance, he explained that he was leaving it here so that someday we really could drink it together. All well and good, but why couldn't it stay at his house? Why would he bring it over now? (Although, I haven't actually gotten rid of any of the other alcohol yet, and the bottles are on the shelf above the stereo so every time I turn the music on or off or adjust the volume or put in a new CD, I have to look at my liquor collection, and it hasn't been particularly tempting. This seems like a positive, non-alcoholic fact.)

Later I did ask him to not try and incite me to drink, and he said OK, no problem. I'm sure he feels sadness at the potential loss of his drinking buddy, and doesn't know what to think of this whole new sobriety thing. I kind of don't know either. It was an impulsive decision. I just wanted to be one of those super-healthy types who has a juicer in their kitchen cabinet and only uses natural sweeteners and is always raving about the health of their colon. Okay, not that last one. But my abstinence does drive another wedge between us: we can't go to bars right now; we can't bond over strange new elixirs in the cordials aisle at Sam's. He can't muck about in my kitchen inventing new martinis (which he's really good at). Drinking is one more activity we can't share. We have respect, and a long history, and enough mutual affection to power the entire Eastern Seaboard for at least an hour. I don't know if that's enough. Most days I think it is.

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