Social mores dictate you nurse a glass of wine or an alcoholic beverage at a gathering. But what happens when you’re a teetotaller, asks Mitra Phukan

What is it about people at parties, especially hosts, which makes them jump up and offer an alcoholic beverage when they see a woman without one? Plying soft-drink-loving women with alcohol seems to take up a lot of time among men at parties these days. Proddings to have “just a small one” take on such gigantic proportions at some gatherings that the poor teetotaller is left with no option but to succumb.

A Globe-Trotting Host
Over the years, one has come to realise that there is more to the have-at-least-a-sip-of-this-champagne-I-got-from-France-last-week routine than meets the eye. It is a chance for him to show off the contents, and legitimately tell you about all the countries he has visited. Also, he can display his knowledge of wines and liquors, considered to be a classy act these days. “Really? Are you sure?” asks the host in disbelief when you inform him that a glass of juice is really all you require. You get the feeling that the fellow had you slotted as a hard drinker, and is now having a difficult time rearranging his thoughts to fit this new reality. “Some ’vrat-shrat’ or something?’’ he asks, solicitously. You assure him, you want it neat. Your orange drink, that is, not the gin.

Wine And Cheese
But he is not about to acknowledge defeat so soon. “Right then, have a bit of this,” he takes out a beautifully shaped bottle from the bar behind him. “I’m sure you’ll find something in my wine rack to suit you. White, rose, all the pick of well-known vineyards, and the best years, too... I have some wonderful cheese, Camembert, no less, to go with it. Well, then, something from the Italian vineyards, I was there just a few weeks ago...” And so it goes. Indeed, you feel great pangs of guilt as you shake your head slowly, and say apologetically, “I’m sorry but I’m not a wine person either.” “Aha, I have just the thing for you,” he announces gleefully, ignoring your doubtful expression, “Irish Bailey! You look like a person who will enjoy it.” Gently, you tell him that no, you are not an Irish Bailey person. Actually, you add tentatively, all this talking has made you thirsty, and you wouldn’t mind a glass of cold, clear water, aqua in its purest form.

But Wait... The Night’s Still Young
Finally, the man surrenders to your strange whims and fancies. “A coke then? With a spike, the merest dash of brandy?” You give up. After all, the guest has an obligation to keep the host happy, too. You accept the glass, looking for a place to dump it as the host beams kindly at you. You are about to ditch the contents of your glass when you realise that as long as you carry it with you, pretending to sip delicately at its contents, you are safe from the host. It is a shield behind which you can defend your unfashionable teetotalism, a bulwark to protect you from the alcohol-bearing hosts. You carry it around with you wherever you go, realising that as long as you have it with you, people will leave you alone.

Ah, blessed relief!