I’ve usually been mum about my thoughts on alcohol. I had plenty of occasion to comment a year and a half ago, but I kept (mostly) quiet for my own good and the good of my then-roommate.

Now I don’t live in a location where the mere presence of booze is verboten, and I also don’t live with my apathetic counter-part. Somehow, alcohol is not only present, but pushed upon me by a new roommate. So I think it’s time to make my opinion clear to those to whom it doesn’t matter:

I hate it. Not to the point of fanatic action, where I would call for Prohibition: The Sequel, mind you, but enough to decide against consuming it. I am of the opinion that I should enjoy the taste of whatever I consume. If I am to consume something for a reason other than to quell my hunger or quench my thirst, I am taking medicine.

This is to say nothing to those who drink their beverage of choice, whatever the choice, for the flavor. The problem is that this doesn’t happen in a college situation. Free from the prying eyes of their parent/guardian, fledgling students want to figure out how it feels to get wasted. So they get wasted. They find out they like the feeling of being ‘buzzed,’ so they continue to take their drink of choice. Along the way, they have convinced themselves that they enjoy their drink of choice in particular. (And they do enjoy it. To prefer one drink or one class of beverage is an actual preference, whatever the reason.)

What I don’t like is when I’m the lone teetotaler of a group and my incomplete reasons given provoke offerings. I don’t understand or like when people think that introducing me to the tamer drinks will cause me to like alcohol in general. I’m of the mindset that if you consume something to create the idea of a good time, you’re running away from a harsher reality. On the other hand, it’s not too much to loosen up after a long day and unwind, so long as you don’t get carried away.

On a mostly related note, I don’t like watching people make fools of themselves. I’m too much of an empath to laugh at another’s expense. Alcohol makes you try things that you otherwise wouldn’t; this occasionally (and often, given the right personality type) leads to activities your sober self might call dumb. Your drunken companions probably recognize grandstanding when they see it and respond in kind, possibly joining or even ridiculing.

To return to my context, I don’t want to tell my pushy roommate directly, because my sense of tact has determined that it’s too late to declare abstinence tastefully. Unfortunately, I’ll need to face up to it soon enough, because I have three months to go with these gentlemen.