Confessions of a teetotaler

Poor he, Aprodicio Laquian, the Canadian-breed academician who can’t keep his mouth in the right place at the right time. He reminds me of this poor me, who, just like him, can't help being a teetotaler.

I can only be too thankful that unlike the lamented Laquian, I am not a privy to carousing involving Asiong Salonga and other high government officials that lasts until the wee-wee hours in the morning. That's a big relief: at least, I wouldn't have to worry about national repercussions of whatever pronouncements I'll make in public. The most that I would have to deal with, perhaps, are my friends' heckling and the snide comments from the readers on their time wasted from reading this inconsequential article.

I try to stay away from alcohol as a personal choice. I admit this is easier said than done in our culture where almost everybody thinks that your virility is exponentially proportional the amount of alcohol running in your bloodstream or where everybody's idea of the coolest guy in town is the clean-cut, suit-wearing James Bond being surrounded by skimpy-clad vixens giving instructions to the bartender on how to prepare his favourite Martini- "it is shaken, not stirred".

That's why I miss so much the alcohol-free celebrations I used to have with my friends at my former boarding house in Area 17, UP Campus. Or should I say we invented reasons to celebrate---even outrageous and stupid ones---such as my board mate getting scorned by his lady love or Kuya Kaloy, our church pastor, having a new haircut. So with cans of Coke, we 'd make a toast to ourselves, and just like in that beer commercial, shout "for good looks, good looks!" to affirm to ourselves that it is good to celebrate life with friends. Now if that isn't enough, the second round would go with boisterous declarations to go "to the bat cave!".

Through out the years I have learned some techniques that I practice to keep myself sober. If you're trying to wage a personal crusade against the big A, that is, alcohol or if you don't want to touch alcohol with a ten-foot totem pole, you can find with you these time-tested approaches very helpful.

So what does a budding teetotaler say when he somebody asks him to go out for a couple of drinks?

First, tell them frankly that you do not drink alcohol. Draw the line right at the start. There's nothing more rewarding than being transparent to your buddies on how far you can go. That's what I always say to my friends and colleagues and whenever they invite me to go out with them. Fortunately, they are open-minded enough to respect my decision. Some would try to squeeze for explanations to which I would normally mutter something like "it's a matter of principle". Most of the time this works and I could not see any reason why this will not work with you also. What your friends probably want from you is your company and that they would just want you to hang out with them.

Now, if you go out hanging with them, what are you supposed to do? If you cannot drink alcohol, try ordering a bottle of coke or mineral water. I remember going a few years back to Gulod in Krus na Ligas, the favourite hangout place of generations of UP students---with my classmates after a particularly gruelling final exams in Physics. While we were dreadfully contemplating for a possible retake of the subject the next semester, my friends washed down their frustrations with bottles of San Miguel Beer while I alternately drank Sprite and Coke. They downed nine bottles of beer each to my nine bottles of carbonated drinks. As the Canadians would probably say, not bad for a long day, eh? I gather though that the UP Police have finally closed down the watering hole at Gulod after the latest spat between the Alpha Phi Beta and the Sigma Rho on the other side of the campus which claimed the life of one student and injured three others. Preventive measures, that's what they call it. I drink to that, because rumbles among fraternity men usually started in Gulod over matters as stupid as bad stares and who gets to use this table or that.

Another technique is to monopolise the discussion. Normally, after a couple of bottles, the people around you get tipsy and start to talk in mumbles. Some would probably insist that you drink just a drop of beer. Just refuse politely. One drop of beer would probably lead to another and another and before you realise it, you have broken your personal vow. I admit that this happens to me many times. So take it from me, politely refuse an offer. Now, what you can do is to start the ball rolling by asking questions that would draw your friends into a heated debate. Usually, a couple of drinks is enough to loosen one’s tongue. Your friends would just be too glad to get you a piece of their mind about say, the relevance of quantum theory to the post-modern predicament or the limits of the time-space conundrum in Stephen Hawking's thought. Or for a touch of politics you could ask, "are you still optimistic for our country if our president is an inveterate drunkard who should be joining Alcoholics Anonymous instead?". If these don't work, here's what you can do (caveat emptor: you have to do this with extra care because you might lose your friends if they catch you red-handed. But I've done this many times before with success). Discreetly, take your glass under the table, look to your right, look to your left and look in front of you. If your pals are not watching, pour the liquid on the ground. Now remember that this works only if you and your company are outdoor. You will have a big problem if you’ll do it indoors, unless of course your pals are so drunk and they will not probably notice you pouring the liquid on the ground. A variation to this is called the game of the musical glasses. You have to have quick hands to be able to do this successfully. As soon as anyone brings down an emptied glass, replace it with your full glass. Then say, "see, mine's empty now drink yours." Or be more convincing, rub your face to give it the flushed-red look and talk incoherently. That's it, like you're stoned or drunk yourself. Unless you're in Batanes, I'm sure you can pull this trick with out really trying. But be careful that you don't at all touch the lips of your pal's glasses because they could be unhygienic and cause health problems later on.

Or, you can, like our mighty Asiong Salonga, excuse yourself by saying that you have given up on beer or liquor and for health reasons, have decided to take red wine instead. Here in Paris, you don't have to say it because everybody drinks at a drop of a hat. In dear old 'Pinas, ask your friends if they have Petrus wine de rigueur that costs around a hundred and twenty thousand pesos per bottle and reportedly figures out prominently in important Malacanang functions. You see, you do it with a class, just like some Chinese-Filipinos out to seek favours from our mighty Asiong Salonga. Tell your friends that for a change, you're trying first class wine and nothing else. Finally, when all is said and done, you must remember this: never squeal on your drinking buddies like what Mr. Laquian did, more especially if one of them is Asiong Salonga, the drunken master himself- who cannot appreciate anymore yet another about his legendary propensity to imbibe. For your sake and the sake of your family, don't, unless you have a ready Canadian passport to back you up and a well-paying teaching post waiting for you at the University of British Columbia.Now, what about giving me a toast? Hic.

Note: History is full of ironies. Empires and emperors come and go. Personal vows are made and broken. This article was written four years ago. Things have changed a lot since then. Aprodicio Laquian, the former spokesperson of Asiong Salonga who squealed about the till- early-morning bacchanalian feasts in Malacanang is now back in Canada while Asiong Salonga himself is now languishing in Veterans Memorial Hospital waiting for the judges to send him to prison or for his kidney to burst, whichever would come first. As for me, I'm still a teetotaler…well, almost.