"Emenies"

IT'S A little sad, really.

We're out at our newly reinstated last-Monday-of-the-month dinner, we're all set to have a nice evening with friends, we've had a good day - but it all goes pear-shaped when one of our number turns up the worse for drink.

Now, don't get me wrong, I've nothing against people enjoying a drink or three.

Indeed - and please don't be shocked by this confession - I've been known to imbibe a little of the vino myself.

I'm not being in any way virtuous about this, nor moralistic nor anything of that sort when I say that some people should try to curb their drinking.

It's just that some can't hold their alcohol, they get drunk all too easily, they become loud, they slur their words, they talk about "emenies" instead of "enemies", they become maudlin, and above all, they become a bore.

There's no talking to a drunk; there's no getting anything like sensible conversation from one.

The result is, I feel I want to run away from them; I get no pleasure from their company nor seeing them in such a state.

As soon as I reasonably can, I settle our tab and we say our goodbyes, a little brusquely, perhaps, but I simply cannot listen to any more of this alcohol-fuelled babbling.

So, we end up coming home rather earlier than expected...

Like I said, a little sad, really.