My Round or Yours?

Welcome back, dear reader! That is, if you even want to come back after such a long absence of reportage. I can't explain it - but you have probably guessed that the Christmas festivities had something to do with it. Well, that and illness too. I had rather a shock on Boxing Day when all of a sudden I had a nose bleed - the first ever in my life. This was followed by several others over the next few days leading me to conclude, naturally, that death was imminent. Add to that, an inexplicable backache that was so severe that I could hardly get out of bed on one occasion and well, reporting my daily detritus to you, dear reader, became a low priority I'm afraid. I am happy to inform you that both ailments have now largely diminished.

But my worries are small compared with those of others, it seems. This country and the entire world seem to be unhappy at the moment, with troubles aplenty. Floods, shootings, forest fires, plagues, corruption, murders and deceit - all are features of our daily exposure to the news. We could all have been forgiven for struggling to raise the enthusiasm to wish each other a 'Happy New Year' if it hadn't been for the copious amounts of champagne that was available on December 31st.

The mention of alcohol brings me to a new matter that I have been contemplating. I'm not usually one for New Year Resolutions - the passing of New Year is, after all, just an arbitrary date in the Christian calendar with no proven significance to any of us - but because this time of year brings with it a time for reflection, I have decided to impose a new maxim upon myself. That is, the next time someone offers to buy me a drink, I shall refuse. Now, you will already know by now that I am far from being a fan of Conservative Leader David Cameron, but it is he who has given me the idea for this new regime.

David Cameron recently announced that in his view, part of this country's binge-drinking problem is caused by our culture of buying rounds in the pub. Poor David, he still doesn't get it entirely (i.e. he doesn't really understand how the low-life of Britain is motivated), but he has hit upon something that has been troubling me for some time. The tradition of buying rounds in the bar does present one of two (or three) difficult issues to me: Either I end up drinking too much; spending too much; or both. Here is a typical scenario: I enter the bar to find three or four friends seated therein, all with near-empty glasses before them. The immediate choice is to offer to replenish these said glasses whilst ordering my own drink. This is the accepted course of action in so-called polite society. The fact that perhaps on this particular occasion I might have intended to pass only a single-drink sojourn in the bar is uneasily shelved.

I am not a miserly person - I would hope not anyway - but it is surely human nature to seek fairness and balance in such situations. So, the inevitable outcome is to sit it out until the next round is offered, and thereby to accept a drink. This is now drink number two, when I had intended to stay for only one. Unless the occasion has been so planned, it is unlikely that I will want drink number three and so shortly, I will take my leave. Balance of expenditure: negative. On another occasion I may be with a friend who has already bought me a first drink. Suddenly we are joined by another friend who insists on replenishing our glasses. Drink number two. Again, I might not wish to have a third drink, but decency forces me to stay for a third as I offer to repay the generosity of the latecomer. Balance of expenditure: roughly equal. Balance of drinking: unnecessarily excessive. In both scenarios, an unwelcome outcome.

The solution, of course, is never to accept a drink from anyone, and never to offer to buy one for anyone else either. Such self sufficiency would then result in a balance both of expenditure and of alcoholic intake. A perfect solution, no? I would be able to pace myself according to my desires and to the time (and funds) available. Nobody can argue that this does not make perfect sense, can they?

But they will. Such is the peer pressure of our long drinking tradition that my actions will probably appear mean-spirited and selfish. Furthermore, some people will undoubtedly be offended that their bonhomie and goodwill, when offering me a drink, have been snubbed. This is a very mis-placed sentiment, and one that I shall try to dismantle as I begin my crusade for more sensible drinking. I'm terribly serious about this and just hope that when I begin, nobody will accuse me of being a Tory. That would be worse than standing accused of being an alcoholic spendthrift. Ah-ha, those days are finally over.