The Last Drink
The guys in the neighboring dorm often bring several cases of beer to their room to invite people over for a small gathering. The number of people varies, and the drinking snacks are only peanuts, broad beans, and beef jerky—no delicacies to feast on. So these gatherings are mainly for chatting, with eating as secondary. Last night they brought up seven or eight cases of beer again and called everyone who stayed behind to drink together. This dorm gathering was the largest in four years, and also the last one. The next day, several people in the class were going to Guangdong.
After lights-out at eleven, I walked into their dorm. Before going, I specifically put on shorts because they had also called the auntie from our building. Actually, it would have been fine not to wear them—I was often in just my underwear surfing the internet in the dorm when the auntie would run in asking me to find things for her. She was long used to it. But the occasion was different, so wearing pants showed respect.
They had set up five or six rechargeable LED lights in the dorm—not very bright, but the atmosphere was nice. A dozen or so people crowded around two small mahjong tables, which were messily covered with snacks and crookedly placed beer bottles. Their chattering conversation was somewhat like the chaotic noise of a street-side snack shop under dim streetlights.
They had already been chatting for half an hour. When the auntie saw me come in, she made me drink three big gulps of beer as punishment for being late. Fine, fine, fine—no wine glasses, so I’ll punish myself with three big gulps. Gulp, gulp, gulp it down, the bottle is half empty. Actually, I’m not very familiar with the auntie. She’s a passerby to me, and I’m a passerby to her. But the auntie has a particularly good relationship with several people in the class, so they called her over. Also to thank her for taking care of our dorm over the past two-plus years. The group effect at the drinking table makes any one person’s opinion easily accepted. As an individual, it’s best to follow their opinions and not act rashly.
Graduation drinking and eating—thousands of words boil down to three themes: reluctant to leave; where to develop; don’t forget to help out when you make it big. They like everyone to toast in a circle. I can’t avoid the cliché either. But after four years as classmates, there are still some classmates I don’t interact with much. Just like in high school, people with similar interests formed their own circles: the flashy ones in one circle, the gamers in another. Originally there wasn’t much overlap. At the drinking table, I could only put on a perfunctory show of courtesy. It’s not that I dislike them, but there’s really nothing to say, so I could only say: “Come on, nothing more to say. Our feelings are all in the wine—bottoms up!” After several rounds of drinks, the polite talk finished, and we started speaking from the heart—no risks involved.
I really admire people who venture out alone into the world. Brother Ping is one of them. He told everyone about the cold shoulders and hardships he encountered going to Shenzhen alone. When he got excited, he slammed a beer bottle onto the table, sending broken peanuts flying. With great heroism, he said, “In the future, half of Shenzhen will be mine! Jobs is nothing! Li Ka-shing is nothing!”
I suddenly understood that some people’s exaggerated ambitions are intimidating. Probably from watching too many TV dramas—behind huge ambitions lies either darkness or hardship. I used to desperately want endless money to buy endless things. Later my ambitions gradually faded, perhaps extinguished by reality. I no longer crave having a lot of money. I only ask for enough to get by—contentment brings happiness. I don’t seek to prove my abilities to others. As long as I have a job full of fun that earns just enough money and I’m with someone I like, that’s enough.