The Six Stages of The SVB's Partying Life

I recently got back from a trip to Las Vegas where I found out that I no longer have the capacity to drink alcohol like I used too. It's sad. I guess it's what Emmit Smith realized when he could only crack two yards a carry. Or Michael Jordan felt like when he was relegated to pump-fake jumpers. Or Elizabeth Taylor when she found out she could only pull unemployed construction workers for husbands.

I had a good run. (Cue Boyz II Men "It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday".... )

Whereas, before, I could black-out during entire conversations, dance for hours, come out of black-out engaging in pre-marital sex, eating Carne Asada Fries, standing on top of a police car holding a recently looted Panasonic television - now I black-out and immediately fall into the fetal position wherever I am standing. Bar Counter. BlackJack Table. Club Cabana. Hallway Floor. Bathroom Stall. Someone's Mom's Bed.


Now, like Bill Russell imparting wisdom to Dwight Howard and handing out trophies to the new generation, let me tell you about the good times... (that made us laugh. I will bring baaaaack. I thought we'd get to see tomorrow-ow-ow....)

Here are the six stages of alcoholic consumption in the SVB's life:

High School - In the drinking and drugs department, I was a SAINT in high school. A parent's wet dream. Ewww. I had maybe 2 beers in my entire high school career. Instead, I chose to focus on school and that 1.8 GPA I nursed through my sophomore year. I really don't know what I was doing. I didn't drink, do drugs, nor did I have good grades. I did a lot of activities though, none of which I really stood out: Class President (until my GPA got too low), Speech and Debate, Mock Trial, Newspaper Staff, Basketball, Track, Football.... although I WAS always the lead in my school plays - a group that shunned alcohol like no other. The few times I did go to parties, it was only to pick up a girl I was seeing who was by far the drunkest in the entire party. (Something I would be very familiar with later on in life...)

College - I still remember the first time I decided I was going to get drunk. I was 21 and with my friend, Marcie, and we told each other we would do it together. (See Mom! I obey the laws of the land!) There are pros and cons to getting drunk for the first time with a gal. Pros - you drink fruity drinks instead of bottom of the well tequila, vodka, and beer. Cons - you go to bars ordering Amaretto Sours and Midori Sours. I wish I knew what I do now, because I would've loved to have observed the bartender's face when they would say, "two Midori Sours. And for you?" Me - "No, one of those is for me." 

Fast forward to 23 and my sixth year in college (What!??! A lot of people go to school for six years!). I had gone from Midori Sours to the most belligerent guy on campus. At my fraternity formal, my date and I blacked-out, apparently got too tired from drinking, sat on the middle of the dance floor, put our shoes on our hands and started dancing with our hands. We kicked and screamed as we were carried off the dance floor.

23-27 Years Old - I like to call these my "journalism years". (Okay, that's a lie. I have never once called them my "journalism years".) I was a news reporter. On television. And devastatingly good-looking. I had suits that made Frank Sinatra look like a hobo. I also had to move from San Diego to Pocatello, Idaho for my first job, where I would be making a whopping $18,500 that first year. Moving from SD to Idaho would be like eating Filet Mignon every day to eating the poop that comes out of the cow that was used to make the Filet Mignon.

This was the first time I ever drank for sadness (other than girl-related) and I didn't like it. I literally cried on the phone to my Mom, who said I could move home. But, very similar to a woman, I didn't want someone to solve my problem - I just wanted someone to listen and understand dry-mouthedness (- Rosie Perez). I quickly overcame my sadness by hosting lots and LOTS of parties for my other journalism friends. (This would become a life-long trend...)

28-31 Years Old - These were my high-society years. I was out of journalism and making some decent coin. I could go big and blow a couple of grand in Vegas. I would occasionally pass out, but not before having some earth-shattering sex with some unsuspecting female that didn't know what hit them. I swear, if it was judged on a minute-by-minute basis, it had to have been the best three minutes of most of those women's days. Followed by a lot of cursing, which I would just blow off, then roll over and fall asleep.

I drank well during these years. I was fine-tuning my palate. Trendy, but not too trendy. Ketel, instead of the cliched Grey Goose. Dom P instead of the rapped-out Cristal. Maker's Mark. Martinis with a specific three olives. Manhattans. A single malt Glenlivet, Glenfiddich, perhaps. Any Glen.

32 Years Old - Drink. Black-out. Move directly to massive amounts of drunk dials. Minutes later. Pass out wherever I am standing (or sitting).

33 Years Old - Retirement home. Or, if I'm lucky, living at home with my Mom. That way I can yell out for meatloaf any time I want. Followed by amusement and, "I never know what she's doing in there."

Well guys, I had a good run. No regrets. Except for that threesome opportunity I almost had!!! Hopefully there are some freaks at the retirement home.

And I'll take (take with me), with me the memorie-e-e-s, to be my sunshine after the rain.... a-a-a-in. It's so hard, to say goodbye, to yesterday-ay-ay-ay-AYYYYYYY.

Kevin L.
The Silicon Valley Bachelor

P.S. Now that I can't handle my alcohol, I'm primed to be taken advantage of by photographers in my burgeoning hand-model career. And I'm more than just a fine piece of hand. I'm a finger jockey. We don't think the same as the face and body boys. We're a different breed. Me and J.P. Prewitt had the world at our fingertips...

Share this:


  1. Oh Kevin. I've never seen this drunken side of you before. Thank God. Promise I won't ever have to.

  2. I know. Sad. I'm moving my beverage consumption to Ensure. It's full of nutrients.


Copyright © Silicon Valley Bachelor . Designed by OddThemes | Distributed By Gooyaabi Templates