I can count on one hand the number of times I've been inside a bar in my entire life. That's probably three times. And I can't even remember when or where. Definitely when I was in my 20s (or younger?), and for sure not by choice.
The one time I recall being dragged into a bar was after some event, and the people with me just couldn't resist going inside one since the night was still young, while I had no other means to get home.
It was an unpleasant experience to say the least. That much I can remember. First, I don't really like places where a) lights are muted with loud music or b) there's too many flashing lights. Both environments give me a headache.
Yes, I am slowly remembering... that first bar (it was quite swanky) also had a dance floor so the loud music made the flashing lights more unbearable.
As much as I love music and dancing, the atmosphere of a bar just doesn't suit me and will certainly make me lose interest in both.
One other reason why bars and I don't mix is because it is one place where people smoke and they serve liquor. You're hard pressed being with people in a bar and not be cajoled to drink.
For the record, I have tasted beer. Pale Pilsen didn't sit right with me. And even the light versions of beer don't uplift my mood. To progress to something more alcoholic is disaster.
It doesn't take one bottle to make me woozy. And I don't care for the feeling. Thankfully, I've a strong stomach and never spilled my guts out after a half round of beer.
Good thing, too, that I quickly learned all I needed to do to get rid of my semi-drunken state is to down glasses of water. It filled my bladder and when I pee, the alcohol drains out of me.
Still, no beer or gin or scotch or rum or whiskey or tequila for me!
Now, let's talk cigarettes...
Like most teenagers, I initially found puffing cigarettes cool. And at the back of my mind, I was thinking of trying it.
But I don't recall ever actually smoking one at that age. Kids love to do this in secret, filching a stick or buying one (there was no law yet prohibiting minors from buying cigarettes), then puffing it with friends. Just to get a feel for it.
Perhaps it was because I never really had a friend or group of friends who was into smoking so I never got to try one.
It was probably in my 20s when I finally had the courage to actually experience smoking. On my first try, of course smoke filled my lungs all wrong and I sputtered and coughed my face red!
That wasn't cool. It was embarrassing!
I've been around smokers enough - uncles, even aunts, cousins and friends - to be familiar with its smell. Later on, even my father took up the habit. He was always among smokers, so he figured why not join them instead.
And he did for 20 years. It was the company he kept. And the stress of work. At the height of his smoking years, he was up to a pack a day. Very, very bad.
(It's what eventually caused a heart attack... three of his four valves were clogged and he needed a heart bypass).
Dad tried not to smoke at home. But couldn't help it... until his first grandchild was born.
My sister laid down a rule: You want to hold the baby, you can't smoke.
That did it! He quit cold turkey. He loved kids more than he did Marlboros. He'd been waiting for a grandchild and was not going to be deprived of carrying one, or playing with his first.
It was being around my smoking dad that I learned to despise cigarettes. And deep inside, I was pissed at smokers, regardless of who they were.
Unfortunately, when you're young you can't scream the house down so people with the habit stop smoking. So I avoided places where they puffed. During parties at home, there were few places to hide.
And then I worked in a newsroom.
It was like being surrounded by chimneys! Front, back and center, someone would be smoking. These guys insisted they needed their dose of vitamin 'C' to get their juices flowing to clean up copy!
Fortunately, when I covered the president, there was a strict policy to keep the media room smoke-free. Turns out there were others (terrifying news ladies) who detested smoking like I did and could demand a no smoking policy.
So, it was a relatively healthy environment where we typed away our stories. When I moved to cover Congress, a few news hens and I had to find our own nook far away from everyone else, because majority would be huffing and puffing while typing.
I can't even imagine how people work with all the smoke swirling around them, makeshift ashtrays - scrap paper, old newspaper, plastic cups, empty beer cans- beside their typewriters, and that strong stench left by smoke sticking to their clothes.
That is what I so, so hate! The stink of smoke sticking to clothing and the hair. That's why I can be gone in a flash or jump 10 feet away from someone puffing a stick.
It was such torture to cover a news briefing where the subject (or subjects) was a heavy smoker. You had no choice but to stay close, and in the process leave with the stench of cigarettes stuck on you.
Eventually, they banned smoking in the newsroom. But you would still be surrounded by guys who smoked and had cigarette stink clinging to their clothes, and their entire being.
I learned about social distancing because of cigarettes. Sure I talked to the guys during breaks or after putting the newspaper to bed, but you can bet I'd be at least a meter away from them.
Perhaps they found me snooty because of that, but I know they still liked me because I listened and made sense.
Most journalists I know hit bars or have drinks after work to wind down and relax. I never joined them. No booze and smokes for me. They must've found me pretty boring...
To this day, I don't have to see anyone to know that someone is smoking around me. And I mean over the fence, outside the gate, 20 meters away... I can smell cigarette smoke from afar. I even know when I pass someone walking who was smoking.
As to drinking, I do take a glass of wine or champagne during New Year. And that's at home. A pitcher of water would be beside me to wash it off. But that's about all I can handle.
I even once covered a wine tasting event where eight different varieties of wine were offered. But the owner of the winery gave a tip that I remember to this day: That's why there are buckets around the venue, to spit the wine out and avoid getting drunk!
Images: Unsplash
Same. I prefer juice than liquor.