What I Observed As The Sober Girl At The Bar

June 22, 2026

Kristen Crisp, Author

Tom O'Connor, Publisher

Things are more sobering than you think. The bar's open. "Do you have any mocktails?" I asked the young girl wearing the black tank top that was two sizes too small. "Huh? A what? What kind of drink is that?" she replied, confused.

Here we go. "I don't drink. Do you have any non-alcoholic drinks?" I continued. "Uh, um, I mean, we have Coke and stuff," she mumbled, looking irritated as if to ask why the hell would I come to a bar and not drink.

I'm wondering the same damn thing right now. "Do you have club soda and cranberry juice?" "Yeah. We have those." "Can you mix those with a lime?" You idiot. "Sure," she replied. begrudgingly.

She handed my husband a beer, and two minutes later, a large red plastic tumbler of cranberry juice with a splash of club soda and a straw was thrust in front of me. Oh, look. She even gave me a straw, like I'm eight.

Sober At the Bar

I sigh, "Thanks." For nothing. Going to a bar when you're sober is always a challenge. I don't make it a habit, but on occasion, I find myself in a group or an event that lands me in the places I now avoid: the bar. What was once a haven of fun and frivolity is now viewed as a den of destruction. A place where people spend copious amounts of money and time to both celebrate their wins and drown their sorrows.

A place where couples meet, business transactions take place, and fights break out—a place I loved and now loathe. But alas, on rare occasions, I enter the smoky gates of hedonism, and these are the things I now observe from a different lens.

Drunk people are loud. The volume gets louder, unnecessarily. Not because the bar gets more crowded, but because the drunk needs to be heard over everyone else, meaning when there is a group of you, you're just shouting over one another, and no one is listening.

Men shout, and their testosterone ramps up along with their chests. "I once caught a fish this big" is a metaphor for "I want you to think I have a big dick and go home with me." Women screech. You know, that high-pitched "eeeeeeeekkk" that comes out when a new friend arrives. Usually to the tune of "Oh my gaaaawwwwwwdddd!" followed by hugs, screams, and eventually, copious amounts of smeared mascara and broken heels.

Drunk people are animated and stupid. Before you berate me, I was an animated, drunk, stupid person for 30 years. I judge no one. This is, unfortunately, the harsh reality. You just don't realize how stupid we are until you're sober around a bunch of drunks.

We repeat stories and act them out with fervor. I might as well have been a mime or a deaf mute, given all the waving, flailing limbs I used to describe the smallest of details around "that time I fell walking down the street in my Candies". I apologize if I inadvertently punched the back of your head while telling my tale.

Speaking of falling. Drunk people fall a lot. I've woken up more times than I should admit, wondering where I got that bruise and having to call someone in my crew to get confirmation that I didn't damage any inanimate objects along the way. Unfortunately, I have.

When I stopped drinking the first time, I was working the boat show circuit. There's nothing sadder than old, drunken sailors. I've witnessed many a senior citizen flip-flop fall, which resulted in a red-faced (I call it scotch face) boat owner being whisked away in the obligatory first aid golf cart with a bloody nose.

Grandpa doesn't fuck around when looking at new boat fenders. He likes a boozy drink, and level three Pain Killers are no joke.

You might also like:5 Reasons Why I Kept Drinking Like An Idiot: A How-To Guide and a Look at Drinking Culture

Drunk people are depressed/depressing.

Drinking isn't all fun and games. It tends to start that way, but with age, time, and more drinks, it just gets sad and sloppy, in that order.

When my husband and I were at the first-mentioned dive bar where Miss Mocktail worked, there was a litany of characters sitting around the bar. My husband suggested we make up stories for each person. I'm pretty sure these are accurate, and I've known every one of these people.

Miss Recently Divorced — The middle-aged woman sitting with what appeared to be a co-worker. She had sad eyes. Not sobbing in her sertraline sad, but "daily life is exhausting" and "how am I going to pay for my ramen noodles and kids' education" kind of sad. Her hair disheveled, blouse wrinkled, and pursed a few cracks past the Goodwill bin. She looked like she'd been done wrong, and the only cure was a Long Island iced tea.

Harley Loner — The old dude with the gray hair and yellowing beard was wearing his biker leathers, drinking a pint of cheap draft, and smoking Marlboro Reds. He had a look that said, "Look at me the wrong way, and when we walk out the door, I'll cut you." He drank alone, and when someone approached him, it was evident that he wanted to remain alone. Sir, your wish is granted.

Miss, I'm No Longer 20 — She was likely Miss Recently Divorced in a previous scene, but she's moved on and is now newly single. Wearing a too-tight crop top and no bra, she and her dried-out, bleached blonde hair commanded as much attention as they could. Some good, some bad. She's aging and isn't happy about it.

But, Random Barfly Guy, who also looked as though he was desperate to "pull a bird," was laughing a little too hard at whatever she said and leaning in a little too closely. His polo shirt and shorts, coupled with his white deck shoes, screamed, "I think I'm a catch, I own a boat and call it a yacht, and this is the fanciest dress you're gonna get from me. Like it or lump it."

We think they may have left together. I'm guessing she lumped it.

Job Loss Joe. Joe still has his suit on, but his tie is loosened. As he sips his well-scotch and the night rolls on, his jacket comes off, sleeves roll up, and hair becomes less coiffed. He shares his woes with Miss Recently Divorced and starts mumbling about his lost stock options and high mortgage payments.

As he gets teary-eyed, some are concerned he might jump from a 45-story building window, but instead, he stumbles out the door on a clear and calculated mission to Jack in the Box for an Ultimate Double Bacon Cheeseburger.

Last Call.

Nothing good comes from the bottle, especially once you pass 40, and to be sober in a room full of drinkers is a stark eye-opener to anyone who's even contemplating sobriety.

This isn't to be catty or critical. I've been there, I've been her, I've been him. But this is now the view from my lens. On occasion, I see people having a good time over one or two drinks, but more often than not, it turns into loud, sloppy drinking, and when you're not a loud, sloppy drunk, it's irritating as hell. Especially when you, the sober one, become the butt of every sarcastic comment. Ugh.

Yet, a very valid reminder of why I value my sobriety so much. If you or someone you know is considering sobriety, this is a good test to take. Go. Go to that party, bar, or event and don't drink. Once. That's all it'll take. You'll be bored and berated, shocked and surprised, irritated, and enlightened.

And it might give you the push you need to quit.

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Read Kristen's bio by clicking her icon at the start of this article.

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