It is possible that, according to a few fellow guests, your personality for the evening will simply become The Man Who Is Not Drinking. Much like a Victorian curiosity, The Man Who Is Not Drinking can instil great fear and fascination in even the most broad-minded of folk. Expect treatment that can range from name-calling (deep-seated fear about personal drinking habits masquerading as banter) to repeated questions about your sorry, strange predicament of happy, clear-headed sobriety (deep-seated fear about personal drinking habits masquerading as interest or concern).

Obviously, all you need to do is smile and be polite. If you want minimum inquest and maximum awkwardness, a good response to “Why?” is, solemnly, “Because I’m an alcoholic and there is not enough booze in this building.” Otherwise, something more fun, like “I’ve got something better in my car”, might suit.

Whatever you do, do not prove the piss-takers right. A core belief of some people who drink is that booze = good + fun, and if you don’t drink, you are neither good nor fun. This, of course, isn’t the case. Join in. Be witty and make interesting conversation. And make sure you’re better dressed than anyone else while you’re at it.

Being of service and considering the needs of others is a great ego-dissolver. Think about it. You are probably the only person at the occasion who can operate heavy machinery – so make yourself useful.

Can you top up people’s glasses? Can you thank waiting staff in lieu of your mates who are now play fighting? Is there a relatively simple bit of maths relating to an issue with the bar tab that only someone who hasn’t been drinking four different colours of drink over the course of eight hours can solve?

Obviously, don’t overdo it. You are not here to work (or operate heavy machinery). But a little care and consideration for your fellow guests can instil self-confidence, help the evening along and evaporate any worries you may have about how you, the only sober person in the world, are coming across.

After decades of tearing up dance floors across various continents, newly sober people often realise they groove like a defunct office chair. But as a non-drinker at a wedding, you absolutely _must _force yourself to dance, even if only for a few moments. This is your chance, sober man, to shine.

Worried? Don’t be. Remember: everyone has lost their minds. They’re all dancing like idiots to the Village People. Just ensure you pick the right partner. The mother of the groom is a perfect candidate. She is a main character, so your endeavours will be noticed and she will likely be delighted to be asked. Extra points are awarded for comically extravagant twirls.

Summer parties are collective Good Vibes events. So, have a great time. But remember that part of your enjoyment is knowing when to make yourself scarce.

There are many signs for the non-drinker to utilise. At a wedding, for instance, you should obviously stay for the speeches (the same goes for a work event) and dinner, however inebriated everyone is. But afterwards, when the DJ starts, things inevitably begin to untangle a little. People will repeat themselves or become obsessively focused on singular, minor details. A man called Alex with whom you have exchanged nothing more than a nod will come up to you, slurring and bleary-eyed, tie missing, and claim, for about half an hour, that he “really respects what you’re doing” and sees the benefits of not drinking.

Conversation of any kind will become increasingly difficult. Tolerance of your drunk friends will probably expire at around midnight – aka drink six or seven. Unless your energy levels are still good and you are having a nice time – if so, crack on! – this is your cue to go home and put the kettle on.

I have some news for you. You are at the centre of very few people’s lives. If you are, unless it is a life partner or a child, it is fleeting. And this party is no different.

This is not a reflection of your character; I’m sure you’re a fantastic person. Nor is it depressing – it is the nature of existence and relationships, and it’s OK. Leaving at a reasonable time will not have a substantially negative impact on anyone’s life – and even if it does, it is not your problem. Throw into the mix a day’s worth of ethanol and things become even less important.

However, there is always one incredibly insecure person who cannot handle someone doing something different and, if you tell them you are heading off, they will move heaven and earth to stop you. Even just for their benefit, leave without saying a word.

An Irish goodbye, a French exit – whatever you want to call it, just say you’re going to the toilet and slip off into the night. It’s a thrilling, liberating feeling. And absolutely no one will notice.