Every year at Passover, my father would take down a bottle of wine he kept in a kitchen cabinet. He and my mother would sip a little bit. That was it for drinking until the next Passover.
In college, I once had two drinks (whiskey). I felt so sick I never drank again.
Truth is, I feel deprived of real alcohol appreciation.
No problem. If I ever fall off the wagon,I'll invite you over to share a couple of gallons of white whiskey. Bring bail money.
You could always just go straight to heroin.