In those discombobulating early days of lockdown, one thing appeared to unite the nation beyond all others – the newfound joy of drinking on Zoom.


From virtual pub quizzes to nights in, rather than out, with friends, as lockdown stomped all over our existing social lives, we found a new freedom. No more, the need to plan ahead, don a fancy frock, book a babysitter or swallow peak time Uber costs. Now, a night at the pub meant a night in the house, and as the logistics got easier, for many, tolerance levels rose.


For a while, my social feeds suggested everyone was on the sauce almost all of the time, the quarantini o’clock posts coming earlier each day. And I’m sure I’m far from the only one whose world seemed in a near permanent countdown to corkscrew time. 


Hell, the government practically encouraged it, declaring off-licenses ‘essential’ for the duration. What could possibly go wrong?


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