Bottles - How to Hide Them
The alcoholic is confronted and confounded with a huge variety of problems. None of these, of course, is self-induced. <big grin> One whole set of consternations has to do with hiding the bottle(s).
Normal folks cannot see this problem at all. It never occurs to them that the quantity and variety of our bottles (or cans for those of us who were hop-heads) is something to be concerned with. How little they know that our reputations are precious. There is a realm of our nature that is to remain unknown to the ravages of other minds. These minds simply do not know (we think) about our drinking proclivities, and they must not. But, if they do know, heavens forbid that they should have more ammunition with which to nag, harass, annoy and condemn us.
Even if these "others" do grasp the reality of our problem, they have no appreciation of its complexity. Our conundrum is a bewildering combination of:
Hiding from the liquor sales source (the clerks in the market must never know).
Hiding the cheap (or expensive) labels from fellow drinkers.
Hiding the quantity drunk from opened bottles.
Hiding undrunk bottles from our families, especially snoopy spouses.
Finding the hidden bottle when we gotta have a drink.
Hiding bottles in the car.
Hiding bottles at work.
Hiding the empties.
Dealing with forgotten bottles uncovered after we sober up.
You see! Hiding the bottle is a big deal. Not being slouches, here are some of the methods we have tried, which are suggested as a program of (self) deception for those who want to continue in denial.
1. Hiding from the liquor sales source. Just think how awful it would be if the clerks at the local store were aware of our alcohol consumption habits. Gracious! There are, of course remedies:
Never go to the same store more than once a week.
Keep track of the times stores are visited, and catch a different shift the next time.
Ask the attendant how many bottles you need for a party of 24.
Ask for recommendations about brands you have "never tried".
Move often.
Question: Now, what would a "normie" do if, for some reason. they bought as much as we did?
Answer: They would find a store that offered quantity discounts and delivered. <bg>
2. Hiding the cheap (or expensive) labels from fellow drinkers. There are two different requirements here. First, it is important that others do not suspect we drink too much by observing that the cheap brands we have are the same as the stuff found in skid row alleys. Next, if we do manage to have some decent quality medicine on hand, we don't want our fellow drunks to drink it all up. So we:
Put the acceptable labels in the liquor cabinet and hide the others where we hide them.
Decant the booze to hide into the bottles of the stuff to show. Crystal decanters are especially useful here to enhance Red Mountain and Roma.
Stash the Thunderbird in the vinegar bottle.
3. Hiding the quantity drunk from opened bottles.
Erase and relocate the marks the spouse puts on the labels.
Soak the labels, and move them down before attaching again.
Replace the amount removed with water. (Notice. this is a totally unacceptable practice.)
Replace the bottle with a full one.
4. Hiding undrunk bottles from our families, especially snoopy spouses. This is for the professional drinkers. Put the bottle:
In the water tank on the back of the toilet.
In the vacuum cleaner bag (preferably in a baggie)
In the clothes hamper
Between the joists over the basement (Dr. Bob did this)
In the garage
In the air conditioning duct (keeps it cooler, too) [Thank you, Steve M.]
In the refrigerator in the garage
In the box marked "Mason Jars"
In the Windex bottle (Vodka or gin with blue coloring) [Notice. this is a prize winner]
In a sock attached to a string and placed on the roof of the back porch (Dr. Bob invented this)
In a tree suspended with nylon fishing line (not recommended for deciduous trees)
In the box of Christmas ornaments
5. Finding the hidden bottle when we gotta have a drink. No reliable methods have been offered. Notes to ourselves seem to be self-defeating, and we rarely think of writing them anyway, and if we do, they are not legible.
6. Hiding bottles in the car.
Under the seat.
Behind the seat in a pickup
Under the spare tire (or in the spare tire compartment). [Thank you, Chris C.]
In a slit cut into the front of the driver's seat. [Thank you, Chris C.]
7. Hiding bottles at work.
In a thermos half filled with orange juice.
8. Hiding the empties. [With special thanks to our stellar contributor, Mark W.]
In a hole in the back yard.
Under the bed. [Thank you, Sue]
In the neighbor's trash
In old suit cases in the basement [Thank you, Steve M.]
On top of the acoustic tiles in the ceiling (hoping the roof doesn't leak). [Thank you, Peter.]
Allocated among a number of one's own trash cans
Smash the bottles and put them under the rest of the trash. [Thank you, Virg.]
Burn plastic bottles in the incinerator. [Thank you, Virg.]
Give the kids a bus pass to the recycle yard
Get a can crusher
In the walls
In the dumpster at the market
In the public trash cans . [Thank you, Marianna]
Restore them to the case they came in, and returning it to the store. [Thank you, Cee Cee.]
9. Dealing with forgotten bottles uncovered after we sober up.
Return to the market (unlikely)
Call your old drinking pals (not recommended)
Donate to the Salvation Army <g>
Donate to the neighbors
Save as a gift for a drinker (not recommended)
Call your sponsor
Use as a substitute for Drano (and weep a wet tear)
Display it on the mantle as a proud symbol of sober success (Yeh, sure)
Have a party to celebrate being sober (Hardly. This is a bad joke)
In conclusion, here is what one of our correspondents wrote:
"[The bottle hiding] is one of the most humiliating memories [of my drinking days]. Remembering the stupid attempt to deceive my spouse and my family, spending more time figuring out how to cheat than how to live usefully. One of the most rewarding thoughts now is knowing I'm not going to sneak into the liquor store hoping I won't run into anyone I know; putting out the garbage can without sneaking the crushed glass into it; or waking up to my spouse's call on occasion without wondering, "Oh oh! What did I forget to hide?"
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