I have written before that
one should embrace the possibility of the pub at any opportunity that presents
itself: there will always be another chance to be bored and frustrated at
home. Penury, however, twists your
thinking to the extent that even this self-evident truth is thrown into
doubt. I’ve got a little money
spare, and am wondering if spunking it in the pub is the right thing to
do. Of course it is, but the
longer you allow such doubts to linger, the more they prey upon your poor,
alcohol-deficient mind.
The question you have to
ask yourself is, what exactly do you want to save this money for? The answer to that question is easy: to
spend at the pub another time. The
corollary to that question is, therefore, is your burning desire to be in the
pub now greater than your burning desire to be in the pub will be at some
unspecified time in the future (probably tomorrow)? The answer to this secondary question is obviously going to
be predicated on pure speculation, but one can say with a degree of confidence
that it is in the nature of burning desires that they burn now, and demand
satisfaction immediately. So the
short answer to the corollary can only be yes, the burning desire to be in the
pub now burns hotter than any other possible desire to be in the pub could ever
burn. Problem, if ever a problem
it were, solved.
Or so it would seem. A doubt is still lingering, and will
have to be analysed before it goes away.
It will have to be analysed if only because a lingering doubt can
severely curtail your enjoyment of an evening out. From somewhere, a little voice masquerading as reason is
insinuating that the money would be better left unspent.
There is of course a degree of security in
knowing you’ve a night out in your pocket, that you won’t find yourself
stranded in sobriety without hope of escape. But this is not what the voice is really telling you. This observation fails to address the
issue that sobriety is exactly where you are stranded right now. What is actually happening here is that
the devilish voice is telling you there is some virtue in holding onto money for
its own sake.
A revelation like this
goes far enough against your nature that it will shock you back into something
resembling your right mind (insofar as a mind deprived of alcohol can ever be
right). Poverty is making a miser
of you, and that cannot be healthy.
Money is a means to an end, and if a shortage of funds is beginning to
transform your personality, is beginning to rob you of that aspect of yourself
that helps you rise above circumstance and so keep you sane, then it becomes
imperative that you get down the pub right now. The consequences of not doing so are unthinkable: this is no
longer about saving or not saving money, this is about saving your soul.
The spiritual shackles of
poverty are thrown off, and a spring has returned to your step. It is time to embrace the glorious
insanity of it all. I’m off now. Cin-cin.
