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No One Will Know
I Can Get Away With Having a Drink
I’m alone.
I’m on a business trip and the hotel bar is open after a long day, or I’m hiking when I run into a few hikers sitting on a log who offer me a beer.
My spouse is away / I’m on a road trip / I’m doing a one-off gig where nobody knows me.
I’m house-sitting for friends who are abroad / I’m dog-sitting for a photographer on a job in Kenya.
I could have a drink. I’m all alone.
“No one will know.”
Seriously, I took a few days to go to the cabin and do some writing. Our last guests stupidly left a couple of beers in the fridge.
I didn’t come up here to drink, but, hey, it’s only two beers and I’m here for 3 days.
I could drink them both tonight, relax, and get up early and commit to writing hard for the rest of the time I’m here.
“No one will know.”
Seriously, though, really — “no one will know.”
Uh-huh. This is a lie that has run through my brain more than once. And I’ve heard it said by many other sober alcoholics.
Thank God I recognize it for the lie that it is.
