Last night I went to a dinner party - the upper working, lower middle class' favourite place to consume bucket loads of cheapish plonk in an attempt to loosen lips whilst still appearing to be sophisticated - I even talked about politics for at least 2-3 minutes - but had no booze. I am not entirely sure I would have had a very different experience of the evening if I had drunk a couple of bottles of my usual poison and that is the problem - I am just a baby and do not know when to stop. But interesting, as when I finally stopped smoking my head-off (and I enjoyed practically every ciggie, even during bouts of bronchitis) I am determined not to be a judgemental, sanctimonious bitch when those around me are quaffing & imbibing.
But just look at it, delicious red wine
The sound of the bottle opening (not so romantic with a screw cap!) back in the old days the struggle with the corkscrew - the breaking dry corks, having to push it down with a knife or other implement when someone (horror of horrors) forgot a corkscrew - I recall one time, early in my drinking career, when the girls got together to 'take the edge off' whilst getting ready to go out and wow the spotty adolescents at the local night spot - having to push the cork down with a hairbrush and then sieving the contents - a lot of effort for warm Liebfraumilch .....! The other warm white wine episode that springs to mind ..... picture it, a lovely walking holiday in the Scottish highlands, fantasies of beautiful heather covered hills, tranquil lochs (the odd monster), gorgeous highlanders stalking the glens wearing kilts (sans Y-fronts) shooting stags and tossing cabers for our amuzement and in the evening going to wonderful pubs where they have roaring open fires, amazing food and a well stocked bar. Well that is what the Scottish Tourist Board would have us believe, instead it was midgies, midgies, midges and when we were on Skye we went to into the local town for a beverage and could only find two bars attached to hotels. I can only recall one of them ..... it was still early, probably around 7pm and it was like walking into a wild west saloon. Everyone stopped their conversations and turned to look at us enter, there were about 10 other customers, I assume locals, one couple propping up the bar looked on the verge of a violent domestic and one bloke, on his Todd, face down on his table - presumably resting between bouts of dealing with pints of Special Brew. We went to the bar and asked confidently for two glasses of dry white wine. The bar-keep looked at us with a quizical eye, do doubt summed us up as 'Southern-softies' and proclaimed that whilst he had actually heard of wine, he wasn't sure if they stocked it. He looked around and discovered a big bottle of something resembling said product, the cork only half way in the bottle, he removed it with ease and proceeded to pour. It was warm and sweet - my memory is a little hazy after that but I think we took a couple of respectful sips and repaired to the convenience store to get a bottle and drink it in the car - not to get the hell our of Dodge, rather to keep away from the bloody midgies (in the YHA carpark as back in the day you couldn't corrupt the organisation's morals by boozing on their premises). We listen to the radio for the evening - yet again, listenting to re-runs of the ancient radio serial Dragnet, which was, eating crackers and chesse from a tube, intersected with me smoking and aiming it at the midgies to no avail. Rock & Roll. 
But after experimenting with many alcoholic varieties since the age of 15, beginning with Martini & lemonade, through to a memorable vodka binge (that cured me of vodka for ever) I settled on red wine. Considering how significant a part it has played in my life for the last 20 years, I am amazed that I cannot remember the moment of epiphany. I love the stuff but it has made me do and say some very questionable things over that time period. I have had terrible hangovers that manifest themselves not has headaches and nausea but hyper-tension and on at least half-a-dozen occasions, near collapse.
So why do I continue to poison myself? I guess it is like the smoking used to be, socially acceptable (well not so much anymore), socially condoned and widely available. A prop to aid initial interaction, lowers inhibitions and makes you feel bloody good about yourself after 3-4 stiff ones. The trouble is, why stop there. And that is the problem.
As well as Feb Fast, I am resigned this year to do Dry July and Sober October and give myself a little challenge. In fact it is the 26 of February as I type and I am feeling totally in control of the situation and strangely, being with very drunk people has stiffened that resolve. Like the smoking, Alan Carr said. The way to stop hurting yourself if simple. Just never have another ......... insert vice ........ Simplistic but powerful. I have done it first with caffeine, cannabis, nicotine can I actually contemplate saying good bye to BOOZE?
