Some drink to remember, some drink to forget.

I've never had sex drunk. Maybe tipsy? One or two glasses into the night. Never, even once, when I was beyond the legal driving limit. And not just because I usually have to drive home afterwards.

This is because, well, to use feminist jargon, I want to own my sexuality. I don't ever want to remove my inhibitions chemically; I want to attack them my own damn self. And some inhibitions are there for a damn good reason. If I, thinking my clearest, don't want to do something, the answer is not to think less clearly.

Also, thinking about the alcohol-sex connection always puts me on my guard when dates offer me drinks. Probably they're just being polite and trying to entertain, but it always crosses my mind that they might be doing it to "loosen me up", and... damn. That's pretty gross really. Not necessarily because I don't want to fuck you, but because I don't want to be tricked into fucking you. Let's you and me decide whether to have sex, dammit.

(I'm not talking about date-rape-drunk here; sex with a passed-out chick is so wrong it doesn't merit three paragraphs, just one sentence. A prison sentence. Hurr. But what I'm talking about here is merely stupid-drunk, capable of saying "no" but less likely to do it.)