A MAN cutting out alcohol has realised that without it, his friendships are an awful lot of work.
Nathan Muir met old pal Tom Booker for an evening and discovered that without a reassuring pint in hand, their hang had all the structural stability of a 19th-century hovel hit by a 21st-century missile.
Muir said: “Who knew three hours was such a long time? Such a chasm of time.
“Without the social lubricant of Kronenbourg there’s no conversation, there’s no laughter, there’s no bond. It’s like waiting for a bus that never comes with an awkward, shifty stranger.
“It’s not as if we were always previously on the lash. But even for afternoon beers we’d discuss the price of a pint, the merits of IPAs over lagers, how shit the barman had poured the head. I tried to comment on the chips, but it wasn’t the same.
“The thunk on dart on dartboard, in what would have been a companionable silence if only I’d been pissed, sounded like my life ticking heavily away. It’s true what they say: man’s only friend is the bottle.”
He added: “But I need to lose a stone to get down to a weight that makes me competitive on Tinder so I’m sticking with it.”