I love being told stories. I’m a book-on-tape junkie. If you’ve already told me an awesome story, I’ll happily listen to it another 500 times. I prefer to laugh, but I appreciate a well told tear-jerker or coming-of-age tale. But honestly, there’s one story that I never want to hear – sadly, I’m told it quite often. And that is the ever-unfortunately-classic, check out how much I drank last night, saga.
I can see it in their eyes – a dull longing. They want to brag, about what they can’t quite remember, but boy do they ever want to tell me about it. And do I ever not want to listen. Cause you see, I don’t care. There’s not much more that I can say, I simply couldn’t care less about how much you drank last night.
But I downed 12 shots of tequila, 2 long islands, and … – yeah, I still don’t care. Belligerency is not cool, it’s annoying … and sloppy.
It’s not interesting to me how much liqueur they drank. It’s even less interesting that they can’t remember everything that happened. Frankly, that’s not even a story. A good story needs something interesting like characters, plot, controversy, etc. And any story, at minimum, requires some sort of action.
Now if they went on an impromptu adventure, found themselves hitch-hiking with a fellow named Hank, and ended up having to sell blood in order to afford a bus ticket home – that would be a good story regardless of sobriety. Hell, it’d be more interesting if the entire story was a detailed account of how they made a PB&J for lunch.
If someone’s going to brag about their alcohol intake then they better have something more to back it up. Did they meet someone? Dance? Ask a police officer for a piggyback ride? Hijack a kayak? Fall asleep? Get in a fight? – Did anything else happen that I should be interested in hearing about? If the answer is no, don’t tell me the damn story. It’s not a story. It’s a list which was intended for bragging rights.
I don’t care.