I met Observer media reporter Sridhar Pappu for the first time two weeks ago at a bar in the East Village. He was holding what looked suspiciously like a non-alcoholic beverage and glaring at people. He explained that he had resolved to stay sober for a month, and that yes, he was serious, and that no, he would not like a beer, and that yes, he was "sure." (I tried.) The month is almost up and in the time-honored tradition of journalists writing odes to alcohol (see Christopher Hitchens, March Vanity Fair), Sridhar composes a love letter to Maker's Mark as he prepares to take an enthusiastic running leap off the wagon. "...truth be told," he writes, "the anticipation of falling to the floor of some bar is all that's keeping me going these days."
28 days of sobriety have me acting like a mean drunk [Observer]