I hate Vegas.

lasvegassignI haven’t ever even been there, but I hate it.  We will not be going there as a couple.  Ever.  Where did this hatred come from?  I am not really sure.  The City of Sin.  Gambling, prostitutes, drinking, lights. 

I consider myself to be fairly liberal.  For me, I don’t really care about what choices other people make as long as they get the choice.  My choices are to keep my party guard up around my FI because a few too many drinks, and he’s a lousy drunk.  He’s not abusive or mean or anything…juuuuuuuust a little embarassing.  I know!  That sounds so terrible.  I should be proud of my future husband and say the best of him, but the fact of the matter is that after 3 or 4 drinks, my FI is asking ridiculously stupid questions and trying to sing karaoke to Pink Floyd.  (For another example of my FI being ridiculous when he’s had too much to drink, see the posts about our limo catastrophe.)

I should back up a few steps and tell you all that before I met my FI, I was the queen of my crowd.  I went out many times a week, stayed up late, spent a lot of money, and kissed a lot of guys.  I picked who, what, where, when, why, and how we would enter the night life scene on any particular evening, and my phone would ring off the hook.  About a month before I met my FI, I put the breaks on.  I am not sure how this decision came to be (providence?), but I needed to take a break for real.  I was exhausted and broke.  I was getting too old for this shit.  Then I met my FI who is fairly anti-social and takes a long time to get to know people.  Because I love him and I love spending time with him, and obviously we click, I didn’t mind at all staying home rather than going out, and for the first time in my life I was making massive payments TO my credit card rather than ON my credit card.  I nailed my first contracted teaching job, was accepted into grad school, started to tutor children, and went to bed on time.  Things were so much more simple than they had been before we started dating.

With the embracing of the new lifestyle and the distaste that I have for my FI when he’s had one too many, I shy away from situations where he’d be out drinking, with or without me.  Now, I will say, to his credit, that he’s gotten much better at regulating himself while he’s out, but that was only after a series of arguments where I would confront him about his drinking and he would deny that there was a problem.  At one point, I packed my bags and (almost) left.  After that ugly transition, my FI mellowed out, and my nagging evaporated.  That was a long time ago, and things are much better.

Now we are engaged, and things like the honeymoon and his batchelor party have come up.  Amongst those conversations, Las Vegas has come up more than once.  I have let him know that I refuse to go there, and I’d prefer if he not go either.  I think it is because I know that I would end up being babysitter to a drunk while he’s placing $100 bets and oggling the waitress…I know.  Shameful, but that’s the truth.  Please keep in mind that I have full confidence that my FI is faithful as I am to him, but that doesn’t make his drunken debauchery any less embarassing.  As far as his batchelor party, I know his brother has brought up taking him there as well.  I put my foot down as did my FI’s mother (thank God).  My FI’s brother is a ridiculous self-proclaimed “host with the most” who frequently cheats on his wife and is drunk 95% of the time.  My FI went through older-brother-idol-worship for so long in his youth that if his bro said he was going to take him to Vegas, my Fi would gladly go.  That is why I have spoken up now. 

For the vast majority, our relationship is strong and good.  We rarely have this alcohol issue come up nowadays because we really only go out for drinks or drink at home like once or twice a month.  Pretty tame, right?  I just wish that I could go out with my FI with full confidence that we could have drinks, and I could let loose, and not have to worry about anything.  Sorry, this post is a real bummer.  No zingers today, folks.

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