The Cost

I read a news story earlier. One of many. But it was about a toddler being served whisky in a Frankie and Benny's. Start 'em early! But someone asked me an interesting related question yesterday.

"How much do you think you've spent on alcohol since you turned 18?"

Very interesting.. It's difficult to put a number on it, but I spent a lot of time yesterday evening trying to arrive at an approximate figure. It is no secret now that I like a tipple once in a while, (to be generous), but how much have I really spent? Hundreds? Thousands? Bearing in mind there have been nights where I've spent £150+... Last Saturday night, I spent about £80 in Nottingham, although I had won £95 from Coral - so that didn't really matter!

You're probably looking at a person who has spent thousands on alcohol. As silly as it sounds, in 3 and a half years, I must have spent £2-3k. Simply on nights out, JD, vodka, cider, amaretto, sambuca and even a few quid on the dreaded Wray and Nephews. It's hard to imagine that figure being spent solely on drink, but building up over 3 years of solid partying and drinking, plus recently the cost of drinking Jack Daniels at home, just socially, whilst watching the TV. It all adds up. It makes me sound like an alcoholic, doesn't it?

But I don't regret it. Of course I don't. You could use the same method of working out how much money you wasted as a kid, buying those Panini football stickers, or Pokemon cards that you used to badger your parents into buying constantly, at every given opportunity. Or Christmas presents that, once opened, you never used and they just sat up in the cupboard gathering dust. We've all used money in the past that ultimately ended up as wasted. Except buying literally garage loads of alcohol over the years have given something in return. Something priceless. Memories.

Stories that have the ability to keep you warm on a cold Winter's evening. Down the pub, JD and coke in hand, (it goes without saying - obviously!), one can spend literally hours reminiscing about the jokes, banter and downright dangerous things we've done as a group of friends. You can't put a price on memories. You really can't.

Shall I....?

There's so many to choose from... I don't know if I have a favourite story, but there are certainly a few worth telling.

Most of them are in the depths of this blog, somewhere. Somewhere deep in these 470 posts, are the most outrageous stories that eminate from a night out on the razzmatazz. There is of course, "that night in Manchester", but I wouldn't particularly class that as a "good" memory. But a memory none the less...

Everything from "Is that a woman or a man?" to hot tubs to pulling sickies to attend Lottie's house parties, (Yeah - I did). From The Joker in Newcastle to The Barmaid Scam to the Bognor Beach madness... From the unspeakable night in Cardiff not so long ago to the Debenhams Window Assault to the Bouncy Castle Boxing Ring... Then you've got those nights where you just dance for hours and hours and hours... You can't put a price on these moments, and however much money you spend on reaching that level of drunk where you're the most perfectly happy you've ever been... You can't beat that. Oh, to be young and carefree...

In a week where the sadness has seeped from the corners of friendship, where life was taken away so wrongly from the same people who had such long lives ahead of them... You have to appreciate the good times. I didn't really know the two chaps who passed away this week. I played in the same cricket team as one once I think, and I had said hello to the other - but even so, watching friends who knew them much better - strong-willed friends - grieve over their loss makes you feel instantly low-spirited. It really does make you think...

And although I barely knew them, it has affected me somewhat. It's difficult to talk about death. It's such a strange and obviously sensitive issue. I wanted to pay my respects, but as someone who hardly knew them, I felt a little like an intruder. The best way to describe them were "friends of friends", so seeing my friends affected so severely by it, affects me. It just makes you reflect on what you have, and what you take for granted day in, day out.

It's just cruel. When my Grandmother died in 2010, she was 83. She'd lived a strong and successful life, and although it's sad, it wasn't entirely unexpected. Tragedies such as this, are unexpected and you can feel the shock. It makes me very sad, but I feel like I shouldn't be sad because I hardly knew them. Does that make sense?

I digress. The point I'm trying to make is this... Memories are to be treasured. More than material wealth, or power - you have to cherish the good times. Whether fuelled by alcohol or not. The times where you can laugh uncontrollably at, where a stranger would simply sit and wonder what on Earth you're talking about. Those "You Had to Be There" moments.

Cherish them, because you just don't know what lays around the corner...