I Drink, therefore I Am

Society is horribly judgmental, it’s a fact. Some of us are more judgmental than others. I judge you for your poor grammar, loser BA degree, badly dyed two-tone greasy hair, emo kid look, poor fashion sense, muffin-top inducing, too-tight jeans, lack of friends and a social life, and so on… however, a very telling piece of info about you is what you drink.

What you drink says a lot about you. It’s not just the fact that the personal choice reflects who you are deep down inside, but what you drink (if you drink as much as the average student) is a part of you. And I don’t just mean 30% of the composition of your blood. Its part of your ethos, your inner being. You are what you drink. That said, I rate I’ve identified a few telling personality traits from one’s poison of choice, presented here for your viewing pleasure.

BEER

Beer is the quintessential man drink. No man is a real man unless he enjoys cracking open an ice-cold brew after a long hard day doing whatever it is he does (usually, nothing). Beer is so essential to manly manhood, that it sponsors all the manly sports, i.e. cricket and rugby. And beer is, coincidentally the drink of choice at said games. Men who drink beer are good, solid okes. Boitchies who are for real. Who, depending on gym membership or lack thereof, may also have a large beer gut to show for it. But at least you can rest assured that they are definitely straight, and definitely cool.

Girls who drink beer on a regular basis are known as “ladettes”. One of the lads, but with boobs and no mickey. This is the girl who probably comes from an all-male family and will do ANYthing to fit in with the boys. She sings loud vulgar drinking songs, denies even knowing what menstruation is, and probably says “c**t”. And never, ever wears a skirt with heels.

It’s pretty much a case of just trying too hard, which is sad. But perhaps one day, every ladette will (a) get a fairy godmother style make-over, learn that she has breasts for a reason, and start being a real girl, or (b) meet a JGE (Just Gay Enough) man with serious mommy issues who wants a demanding bossy woman in his life to monopolize the TV remote and yell at him to fetch another beer.

WINE

There are three types of wine drinker. Type A, the Boer, either comes from somewhere in the Boland and was raised on Cabernet Sauvignon, or is just plain Afrikaans and has been taking a cooler of papsak to Nikitas and langarm-dancing the night away since Tin Roof was called Green Man.

Type B is the child of semi-alcoholic parents who is so used to a glass of wine with supper, lunch, and breakfast that they get shaky at the thought of an empty wine cabinet. There is a wine bottle or two in all their family photos and there are wine glass rings on every surface they come into contact with. Trying to explain that wine is not more important that oxygen for sustaining the human body would be a wasted task.

Type C is the super-pretentious wannabe snob. This person is identifiable by the fact that they loudly and obviously proclaim through talking and waving their wineglass around, the fact that they are partaking of a fine vintage (and holding an invites-only dinner party next week) even though said wine is only a Woolworths house red. The lesson here? If you have no culture, no amount of wine-faking will make you cool. Just go live in the Boland for a few years or something.

SPIRIT COOLERS

If she’s a girl, she’s a very girly girl. Or just broke for the night. Or, one of those people who can’t ever afford to buy her own drinks. Either way, everyone knows that spirit coolers are way, way feminine. They just SCREAM girl. In fact, many people know coolers as “chick beer”. If you see a guy drinking coolers, start worrying. If you see your guy drinking them, its time to own up to the fact that he does wear your underwear when you’re not around.

BRANDY

You’re Afrikaans. Or have Afrikaans heritage. Or, for some strange and unfathomable reason you really, really wish you were Afrikaans. Or, the bar has a special on double Klipdrift and Coke and you’re pretty broke. If you drink brandy, chances are you love rugby, loathe tennis and the English, and bar-brawling is your professional hobby.

APPLETINI

Appletini drinkers are quintessential gossip girls. In fact, people like them are the inspiration for the entire series. They wear a lot of pink and white, and love ridiculously short skirts and dresses. They have a posse of girls and all of “the girls” greet each other with a double-barreled cheek kiss and lots of giggling and high-pitched squeaking. They almost definitely study a BA course. Sometimes they’ll even use their hands to make “friendship stars”, take photos, photoshop a cutesy title like “friends forever!” in pink onto the photo and use it as their profile picture on facebook. (insert vomit here)

They all have perfect nails and perfect hair, under which a desolate wind blows around the vast empty space normally occupied by a brain. They find nothing wrong with saying “that’s hot!” and have probably owned/still own a small dog which has been forced into their handbag on any number of occasions. Thankfully, such people either marry rich husbands and disappear until replaced by a younger model, or become typists or other sorts of office fodder and disappear into a dingy office complex forever. Except of course for those times when they hit Caprice with their girls for appletinis.

CANE

Cane-drinkers are direct genetic throwbacks to the inhabitants of ancient Sparta. These people party HARD. Always. Every night out is an epic, filled with enough sex, action and violence to make a Hollywood blockbuster. They always drink in massive quantities, hit the dance floor like a tornado in Kansas and are generally held in legendary regard. These are the kind of people who will make your night absolutely unforgettable, even if it is because you caught a really hairy full frontal when one of them started arm curling your dog, naked.

Cane drinkers almost certainly have massive early-onset cirrhosis and have probably halved their IQ in two years of regularly attending Springboks Jug night. However, they are the most singularly awesome people you will ever meet, guaranteed to change your life – if you get hold of them before they pass out, that is.

WHISKEY

The type of person varies according to the type of whisky. Either you’re a siff hillbilly from Kraaifontein, or a gentleman with class and distinction. Whisky drinkers are mostly men, or just very, very masculine women with moustaches and a crotch bulge. In fact, whisky drinking men are much like cane drinkers except for two vital ingredients: self-respect and class. And they definitely have money – while a bottle of Cape to Rio costs R38 at local retailers, a bottle of Johnny Blue will set you back a cool R1200.

Whisky drinkers are the kind of awesome people you want to hang out with when you want a crazy party, but don’t want to be collecting your friends off the rooftop at 2am, where they are tearfully reciting garbled bits of the Any Given Sunday “Inch by Inch” speech, naked.

MALIBU AND COKE

Nothing says “party girl” like a Malibu and coke! These girls may also be part of the Appletini crowd, but are often simply their more intelligent, ever-so-slightly less immaculately groomed sisters. Often you’ll find that by day, they study a real degree, keep giggling to an absolute minimum and while travelling in groups, never refer to the group as “my/the girls”. They seem like your slightly hotter-than-average, normal ladies.

By night however, they transform into the gossip girls’ sophisticated sisters. Most of the time, the Malibu and cokes are generously donated by sweaty half-smashed men who just got some serious standing-up-lapdance action on the dance floor when the Tiger Tiger DJ played “Low” (or any Akon song) for the 50000th time this month. These girls, as you may well know, nocturnally inhabit Tiger and can be identified as the large all-female group trooping onto the dance floor en masse for the lollipop song and “Valerie”. And once they’ve emptied the wallets of Tiger’s sad and single man-crowd, they hit the road, playing Cascada on the car stereo and laughing all the way home.

TEQUILA

Tequila is the alcoholic equivalent of a marriage proposal. Tequila drinkers mean business. They are serious about what they do, which is mostly getting utterly shitfaced, and passing out in their own puke before waking outside the club at 5am, sans wallet, cellphone and dignity.

Tequila drinkers are total and complete exhibitionists. They live to be hardcore and get noticed for it. After all, since you can’t bring your Mini Cooper Sport (with racing stripes) into the club, nothing says “I’m cooler than you” quite like a row of Josés lined up on the bar counter. This leads to the conclusion that tequila drinkers are manifestly stupid, because they are guaranteed to lose whatever coolness they have gained by projectile-chundering all over themselves and nearby people, or falling into a public toilet later in the evening. But, you can’t be all things, I suppose…

ABSINTHE

Suicidal. Utterly and completely suicidal. That’s all I have to say.