Every week in Rambling Dispatches, resident malcontent Quinn McGee just pretty much discusses whatever comes to mind. This week, he offers some helpful tips on drinking alone.

So, I wouldn’t call myself an alcoholic. I do enjoy my drinks from time to time, though, and I will be honest: most of those drinks occur alone. Drinking alone is cheaper, and being a guy, I don’t get drinks bought for me, because that shit just doesn’t happen except for birthdays or nights out with family. Being a solo drinker, sometimes I like to get classy and not just do the typical lonely drinker thing, in which I slap a ten on the counter of some hole-in-the-wall establishment and walk out with as many 40s as I can carry. The best part of drinking classy by yoursel is that you feel more put together than the actual situation, in which you’re probably in scummy clothes because you don’t have to entertain anyone. With this introduction, I offer a list of drinks to drink alone and all the benefits they offer.

Wine

Wine is inherently classy because of the media and movies. What do people with money order at fancy restaurants? They drink wine, of course, because it’s fancy and European and all that stuff. How could you not feel well-to-do when you are drinking wine? Surely the fancier the drink, the less the sting of drinking alone, right? Another great thing is that you can buy really cheap wine and just call it wine and feel classy. No one has to know that you are drinking a bottle of two-buck Chuck out of a paper bag or Solo cup while watching a romantic comedy by yourself, or as I like to call that, Wednesday night. That’s when Netflix comes in and I add all movies to my list, like This Means War. Watching This Means War alone sure wouldn’t have felt that lonely if I had a good old bottle of wine.

Any drink with a name that sounds like a person

Drinks with names are pretty awesome. You can go and shout a name at someone, and they instantly know what the hell you are talking about and how to make it. While the ingredients might be expensive for some of these named drinks, they lend a level of class to the lonely evening since they seem exclusive, as though only people who get the drink could understand or know to make it. Also, drinks that have people names are extra great for the solo drinker. Why? Because it makes it seem like you are drinking with a friend. Don’t just call it drinking a Tom Collins, call it drinking with Tom Collins. That way, you can talk to it in your apartment by yourself, and the neighbors outside will think you are just holding a formal get-together, with full names and everything. Another great drink is the Rob Roy, the Scottish version of the Manhattan and named after the hero. You can make it seem you watched the movie, and no one would question you, because they would indirectly be questioning Liam Neeson, and no one questions Liam Neeson. Did you see Taken? He murdered Europe over a dumb girl following U2. Who the hell follows U2? Sure, it was his daughter, but it’s still following a band around Europe after the Hostel movies were out, which are basically a PSA to not trust any dude with an accent.

The Park Bench

This is the last-case scenario. Say you just finished buying the 40s and you don’t want to be alone. You call up friends and ask them to come and drink with you, but they are just too good for malt liquor and have morals and club obligations and friends who aren’t poor. What is a person to do? It’s the park bench. Take that sad collection to the park, and drink it where people are. They don’t have to know you, but chances are they will after the alcohol kicks in and you start thinking the park is a bar and that one tree with the shapely trunk is eying you across the floor. You head over with your best lines and ignore everyone else’s mumblings behind your back. You hope they don’t call the cops, but there is no guarantee, so the plan is risky, but no one ever attained greatness by avoiding things you explain to your mother as you call her from a payphone in county jail. Even if she doesn’t post bail for acts that the jailer calls “the usual” for you, you made friends. Mission accomplished.