I am an introvert who once in a while, decides to leave the house to spend quality time with friends; sometimes under duress, other times of my own free will. I am often the resident ‘goody two-shoes’ when I’m with them. I must say that this title is not one I would give to myself. If I were to give myself a title, it would be ‘queen of everything’ or something equally exciting. Anyway, the ‘goody two-shoes’ title bestowed on me is due to the fact that I do not drink alcohol.
I do not like alcohol. I do not think about alcohol. When I am planning a get-together, for instance, my drinks list would look like this: juice, soft drinks, malt drinks, and water. Sometimes as an afterthought, I would reluctantly add ‘beer or wine’ so that I would not have to endure the pained looks of guests if I were to announce that there was no alcohol at my get-together.
I first tasted alcohol as a child; I was probably seven or eight years old at the time. Someone was drinking beer at a family gathering and asked me if I wanted a sip. My first instinct was to say no, but my curiosity got the best of me. I took a sip…and was sorely disappointed. ‘Is that it?’ I thought. I couldn’t understand it…this vile, bitter-tasting substance was what I always saw adults drinking with such delight and excitement? Ewww!
Years later, as an adult, I tasted champagne. I was again, very disappointed. To me, it was a bottled version of what I assumed urine tasted like. I was in fact more interested by the beauty and shape of the champagne glasses than in the champagne itself.
‘You will like this one, surely!’ I was told, when sometime afterwards, I was given a glass of Baileys’ Irish Cream to taste. I was filled with hope as I took a sip. ‘Gosh!’ I thought. ‘This must be what expired milk tastes like’. Ewww!
I have tasted different varieties of alcoholic cocktail drinks. I have tasted Gordon Sparks and Smirnoff Ice, both drinks which people guaranteed would make me cross over to the alcohol side. I still wasn’t impressed.
They all tasted bitter to me.
It does not mean that I have any issues with people who drink alcohol. Drink and be merry, I say! Drink, as long as it’s done in moderation. My brief time in England and what I saw happen in city centres on Friday nights was a lesson that ‘less is more’ when it comes to alcohol’. The drunkenness, the vomiting on the street and the unruly behaviour were sights to behold.
I would say however, that even if alcohol had no logic-impairing properties, or if it turned out that alcohol was refined in such a way that drinking ten bottles of beer would not make me a drunken mess, I still would not drink it.
It is just not sweet to me.
So that’s it. That is why I do not drink alcohol-because it is neither tasty nor delicious to me. It is not for religious reasons or for ‘holier-than-thou’ reasons. Alcohol does not elicit joy and delight for me, in the way, for instance, mangoes would do for me.
How I love mangoes! As I am writing this, I am quite annoyed that mangoes are not currently in season. I love mangoes for their sweetness, their succulence and their variety:
• The green ‘sucking’ mangoes,
• The wonderfully large mangoes that can only be eaten with dignity after cutting them up with a knife,
• The small mangoes which leave strands in your teeth.
I love all of them. I love mango in juice form. I have never had mango-flavoured ice cream, but I imagine that it tastes delightful.
Now, if alcohol tasted like mangoes, I would buy it in crates and in cartons. I would drink it in the morning with my breakfast. I would have a bottle of it with my lunch. I would have some sips of it with my pre-dinner snack. I would have several glasses of it with my dinner. I would have a bonus glass of it with my dessert.
Perhaps it is a good thing that alcohol tastes like alcohol. The level at which I would have consumed it would probably have gotten out of hand.
Who knows, maybe a day would come when my colleagues at work would wonder where I disappeared to, not knowing that if they had just checked under my desk, they would have found me, taking an alcohol-induced nap while hugging a bottle of wine.
My family and close friends would have had to stage an intervention by now, to rescue me from my mango-flavoured stupor.
PS I recently tried mango-flavoured Smirnoff Ice…it was alright, but not sweet enough.Would I order it the next time I go out? Probably not lol