Monday Manners: Put the Beaujolais Down, and Step Away from the Cell Phone

I would be a complete hypocrite if I said that I wasn't guilty of the occasional breach of decorum. I like to think that I'm better than most, but that doesn't mean I'm perfect. Fortunately, I'm the co-editor of this pretty big blog in Philadelphia, where I write a manners column, and I can use that column as a forum for others to learn from my mistakes.

I'm usually really good with alcohol. Few people can tell that I'm drunk, based on conversation alone. (But oh, can they tell when I try to head to the bathroom and end up walking a parabola to get there!) However, even though I'm pretty coherent with some liquor in me, it doesn't mean that I make the best choices. Liquor removes the filter for me, as it probably does for many people. It makes people really honest, and while honesty is a good thing, there's a time and a place to talk about your friend's relationship woes or her cousin's recent issues with the law, but a crowded bar full of other people who aren't supposed to know what you're talking about isn't it.

But, as you can probably tell tell from the title of this post, I'm not here to talk about the incredible shrinking filter, if only because there's actually a legitimate chance that the people you were with will forget most of the evening's conversation. Unfortunately, sometimes you can't avoid the evidence the next morning. Especially if mobile phones were involved.

Drinking and dialing is dangerous enough, because the next morning, you can check your call log and see that you managed to call, not one, not two, but five former significant others and booty calls. And, unless you're Richard Nixon, you don't have a record of the call beyond that, so you're going to be forced to spend your Sunday wondering just what you said to each of those people. I'm good about not drinking and dialing: the only people I call are the people who've asked me to, for whatever reason. And the occasional taxi dispatcher or late-night pizza delivery place.

What I'm sometimes guilty of doing, though, might possibly be worse: drinking and texting. Because of the time it can take to actually compose a text message, you can't blame it on impulse. You had to formulate a (somewhat) coherent thought, and actually dedicate the time and patience to the follow-through. Worse yet: unless you delete your text messages after sending and receiving them, you get to wake up to a full two-way conversation on your cell. And that, readers, can also mean your hangover is accompanied by anything from remorse to embarrassment to complete mortification.

Usually, the drunk texts I send are pretty innocent, and the people receiving them get a good laugh. But a recent drunk texting episode put me at risk of sabotaging a friendship. Several friends of mine have woken up to more than a cell phone next to them after a particularly drunk text messaging episode. See what I mean by remorse?

In the future, I'm going to make an effort—and I hope you will, too—to think twice before I reach for my phone when I'm out, especially if I'm harboring any pent-up negative energy toward prospective recipients of my text messages. If I can put the required thought into composing a grammatically-perfect (no, really) text message, I can clearly put a little more thought into not sending it.

Image via Jenny Chowdhurdy Says, "Put That In Your Pipe and Smoke It".