A Sober Approach to Drinking
Daily Observer
“What
are you perusing, Harry?” Lapius asked.
“Nothing much. Some brochure from one of these psychiatric clinics. It’s a questionnaire, and if you answer yes
to more than one of the questions the clinic thinks you might have a drinking
problem.”
“Try
me.”
“Okay. Are you sometimes surprised at the amount of
alcohol you consume in a day?”
“Yes,”
Lapius answered, hugging the brandy snifter to his
chest. “Yes, particularly when I am
writing, I am shocked to discover I’ve hardly had anything to drink.”
“Has
anyone ever criticized your drinking?”
“Yes
again. The liqueur store, when I’ve been
late in paying my bill. ‘If you can’t
pay, don’t drink’, they tell me.”
“Have
you ever felt the need to sneak a drink, hide bottles or mix yourself a double
when serving drinks?”
“I
always mix myself a double, Harry.”
“Are
you sometimes irritable with friends when you are drinking?”
“No,
Harry, I can’t say I am.”
“The
fact is Simon, you are always somewhat irritable. I haven’t noticed that drinking makes a
difference. Let’s go on. Do you sometimes continue to drink when
others stop?”
“Of
course, Harry. After all, if I didn’t
drink I would probably eat more.”
“Have
you ever tried to kick the habit?”
“What for?”
“Have
you ever fallen or had an accident while drinking?”
“No
my movements are more fluid.”
“Have
you ever needed a drink to calm your nerves when you wake up?”
“I
can’t think of a better way to start the day.”
“Do
you dread going to social functions that don’t serve drinks?”
“Abhor
is the word.”
“Have
you ever found bruises on your body you can’t explain?”
“I
can’t see my body without doing calisthenics that I am not capable of doing.”
“Do
you often find yourself drinking more than you intend to?”
“Never,”
he said firmly. That didn’t reassure me.
“Have
you ever tried to cut down on the amount and – oh the hell with it Simon. It says here that you have a serious drinking
problem.”
“I
have a weight problem, and insofar as drinking contributes to my weight I guess
you could say I had a drinking problem. It’s
an interesting questionnaire, Harry, but there are two questions I should add.”
“What
are they?”
“Do
you become a different person when you drink?
And are you unable to discontinue drinking over a period of time?”
“I
can stop drinking whenever I want for any number of days. True, it’s giving up one of my pleasures, but
– well that’s a vile thought. Why should
we talk about giving up pleasures?”
“You
know Simon, I’m beginning to appreciate something
about you. You are not an alcoholic, but
darned, if you aren’t a tippler.”
“Ridiculous,
Harry. Connoisseur, perhaps, wine
taster, if you will, but nothing so vulgar as a
tippler.”
“Nonsense,
Harry – is that supposed to be opprobrious?
Very well then, call me a tippler.
But I’m never drunk, just pleasantly warmed by the alcohols. I enjoy the liqueurs as a pipe smoker savors
his tobaccos.”
“You
know Simon, I think the kids are right. They say drink to us is like hash to
them. Come to think of it the way you
drink you have the drug habit. Sure you
may not be an addict, but damn it, you’re sort of a sub-threshold lush. Come to think of it I probably never saw you
cold sober. I might not find you very
agreeable.”
“Why
I’m almost 60 years old,” he lied. I
didn’t want to spoil his evening by reminding him that we celebrated his
sixtieth birthday three years ago. “What
impudence to compare me to those kids.
This holier than thou attitude of yours is unbearable. You drink.
I’ve never seen you refuse a drink when offered to you.”
“Come
on, Simon. I bet I don’t take more than
two or three drinks a week.”
“That’s
all I took when I was your age, Harry,” he said soberly.