Within this gentile, windy and quiet city lies a phenomenon that is as brutal as it is impressive. Loudly promoting it's existence between the meandering streets filled with old folks homes and assisted living facilities. Gaining traction inside the rows upon rows of illegally suited student housing communities is something more sinister and evil. This vile villainy is known here as being Lethbridge Drunk. It's different than what you're thinking. It's not just being drunk here in Lethbridge. No. No sir. This is something that deserves it's own title. When you meet someone in a different city or country who's either partied in Lethbridge or knows someone who has partied here, an instant mutual bond and respect, a camaraderie, if you will, is formed.
People move to here to either become educated or retire. Fact. If you live here, your liver has decided to either get an education or full on fucking retire. I don't have one anymore, a liver that is. If I were to die today I'm pretty sure the doctors would find a bottle of Jamesons where my liver should have been. I'm sure you can say that for about 85% of the student population here.
I'm going to tell you a story to help explain the difference between getting shitty drunk wastey pants here versus anywhere else, for example, Calgary. This is how I found out the difference between Lethbridge Drunk and Calgary Drunk, Speaking as someone who's well versed in both, I feel comfortable with being an authority on the subject.
As three of us drove up to Calgary to meet a buddy for a pre-bachelor-party-planning-party (Clue #1) we had a conversation about how ridiculously drunk we all seem to get when in Lethbridge or while in the presence of other Lethbridgians. Yes, that's right, the state of impairment doesn't stop at the city limits as long as you have someone else who's done time in LethVegas. In this conversation we couldn't understand or figure out why it was so ridiculous in Lethbridge compared to other places. The atmosphere is the same, the booze is the same, the music, the whatever is generally the same wherever you go, yet 2 hours south of Calgary is like the twilight zone.
Anyways, after our buddy ditches the three of us and the bachelor-party-planning-party to do wedding invitations with his wife (you will never live that down), we three decide to enjoy some libations at my cousins house then head to a small pub down south. A cube of Pilsner and 26 ounces of Fireball later, the party is getting underway as we walk into the pub. The next few hours are a complete blur of Shot-Skis, fireball, beers and developing a handshake with the bartender that qualified us for immediate and price-reduced service.
In one of my few moments of clarity that night I see it all unfold. I gain a clear understanding of what Lethbridge Drunk really is.
Just before 1am I find myself standing at the bar waiting for a drink behind a four-deep wall of humanity that's blocking my access to liquor. As I look to the bartender, who I've never met before, he extends his hand over the mob of gyrating flesh in an attempt to give me our secret high-five, and pass me a pint of ale. I cant help but notice those around me looking with disapproval and disbelief like I must be a long lost friend of the liquor dispenser. I am not, I tell myself. Just as I turn to walk away I glance over at the dance floor and it becomes even more obvious that we are either way out of our element, or so fucking outrageously IN our element that it's like party school, and we're teaching it. There, on the D floor, 150 people are dancing like they're G'd up from the feet up gangsters, or slutty chicks rubbing their front bums all over needy dudes, or guys dancing like they've been taught by Hitch himself, or girls trying to provocatively seduce their prospective mates by subtle movements that draw attention to their no-no square. In the middle of all the serious business of trying to look cool as fuck because everyone cares about what the other people in the bar think, I see my two BEAUTIES proving them all wrong. As I pan across the dancers, there, in the middle, are my two buddies, neatly stacked on top of each other. Literally. Piggy-fucking-back riding each other around the dance-floor, challenging other groups to chicken fights. Eventually a couple of people, who evidently are also from Lethbridge, oblige my friends and all chaos ensues. People stop dancing, they start tapping their friends on the shoulders to watch the show. Girls are getting dragged off the floor by their boyfriends as the poultry carnage rages on oblivious. Nobody does a thing. It just goes on and on and on until finally the two groups tucker out and head back to the bar. Afterwards, people slowly start to head back to the dance-floor denying what just happened. I saw it. It made me proud.
It made me proud to have lived and partied in a place where people honestly don't give a fuck. They don't care what you think of them, what they think of you, how or what they do. They just like to have fun. Something that is all to uncommon in the pretentious world of big cities. Although I've probably shaved a good 15 years off of my life by living here for the last three, I think I'm better for it. I've learned what it's like to not actually care at all about what people think of you. I've learned that no matter how stupid you've been the night before, one or all of your friends were right there with you. I've learned that you don't really have to wake up and apologize for being wasted because your friends automatically forgive you.
For these reasons, which you can take away from drinking and put into most everyday life situations, I'm glad I made the decision to move here. It's a special place for special people and if you haven't lived it, I honestly feel sorry for you and think that this is something you should come experience, just once.