I know I’m drinking myself to a slow death, but then I’m in no hurry.

In Benchley’s characteristic deadpan, the speaker acknowledges self-destructive behavior while undercutting the expected moral gravity with a wry, almost bureaucratic logic: if death is “slow,” there is no need to rush. The humor comes from treating a serious confession as a matter of scheduling and personal convenience. It also reflects a broader modern comic stance—self-awareness without reform—where candor becomes a substitute for change. Read as social satire, it pokes at the way people rationalize harmful habits by reframing them as controlled, manageable, or distant in consequence.