I hope I’m not still playing beer pong when I’m 28.
That thought flashed through my head one day in 2011. I was eating lunch at a McAlister’s Deli and overheard a group of friends talking about their plans for the weekend. One of the guys in the group quipped that they’d all be playing beer pong on Saturday night.
The members of the group looked to be in their late 20s. I pegged Beer Pong Guy as being 28.
I was 23 at the time and I remember finding Beer Pong Guy’s weekend plans depressing.
There was something jarring about hearing a guy who was almost 30 enthusiastically gab about playing a game most often associated with college students. Did he not know how immature he sounded? I wanted to drop Terrence Howard’s famous line from “Crash” on him when I walked out.
Fast-forward to today and I’m almost 28.
Confession No. 1: I’m still playing beer pong.
Confession No. 2: I’m OK with it.
My 23-year-old self would be so disappointed. However, it’s important to note who I was at 23. Bars and parties were places I felt uncomfortable at. My social anxiety had something to do with this, but I also had no idea how to behave or what to drink, because I didn’t go out regularly. This trend started in college, which was a pretty tame experience for me on that front; I never once attended a party anything like the ones depicted in “22 Jump Street” or “Neighbors,” although I’m sure they were going on. The bottom line is I felt woefully behind virtually everyone I knew when it came to the world of drinking.
Channing Tatum and Jonah Hill in “22 Jump Street.”
So, it makes sense that 23-year-old me would’ve looked contemptuously at a dude in his late 20s who sounded so much like my buddies at the time. I was probably hoping that by the time my friends and I were the same age as Beer Pong Guy, we’d have outgrown drinking and I’d no longer be in situations where I felt so ill at ease. I was probably hoping that I’d be able to play the immaturity card on them whenever they brought up going out and be able to shame them into abandoning the idea. I’d go from being powerless to empowered. I’m sure you can appreciate how appealing this would’ve been to me. But Beer Pong Guy upset my expectations for what my late 20s might be like.
In the time that’s passed between that day at McAlister’s and now, my relationship with drinking has changed. The more bars and parties I went to, the more comfortable I felt at them. I learned it was easier to just trust the bartender with my debit card and open up a tab rather than pay for every drink individually. I discovered that I loved Bass and vodka Red Bulls and made them my go-to drinks. I got better at playing kings, flippy cup and, yes, beer pong.
Tommy (left), the cool Power Ranger, and Billy, the geeky one.
I’ve made a concerted effort to make up for lost time; after all, you’re only in your 20s once. In doing so, I’ve caught up with my friends, but also passed them in some ways. Now, I’m the one who knows where the coolest bars are or what drinks you absolutely have to try. Often, I’m the one leading the way, which would’ve blown my mind five years ago. In Power Ranger terms, Billy the Blue Ranger turned into Tommy the Green Ranger.
All of my best drinking stories have come since that day at McAlister’s and, in essence, I’ve become at 28 who I secretly wanted to be at 23. I thought I’d always feel out of place at bars and parties, but accumulating a certain amount of experience changed that – just like it can change anything.
Ultimately, this whole process has taught me that you should never doubt your ability to get better at something, that living and growing are often one and the same.
That’s why I’m OK with still playing beer pong at 28. Something that used to be a source of consternation for me is now quite the opposite.
And that’s something worth drinking to.
EVE OF STEVE 