I'm fine with my Diet Coke, thanks anyway

"Oh, I'll fix that."
"Well, we'll fix that by the time the night's over."
"Don't worry, I'll fix that in no time."
"What's wrong with you?!"

-- some responses I've gotten at holiday (and other) parties when people scoff at my choice of Diet Coke as a drink and force me to say the sentence that oddly seems to turn me into a scary foreign alien to them: "I don't drink."

But what exactly is it that these would-be fixers think needs fixing?  Maybe when someone tells you they don't drink, the fixing has already been done.  Maybe nothing is or ever was broken and in need of fixing.  Would these same people force me to eat a bowl of corn flakes if I announced I didn't eat cereal?  Once at a show's opening night party, a producer (who I'd worked for several times) tried to force me to drink.  Not drinking is not now nor has it ever been a big deal to me, and I politely declined several times, trying to laugh it off at first -- each time with the producer shoving the drink into my hand with more intensity and more forcefully trying to get me to throw it back.  Realizing the moment had turned bizarrely intense, I looked over to a mutual friend on the show who had always been my cheerleader and supporter, hoping he would help me out and get her to back off, and he muttered, "It's just one drink -- just drink it" before turning away uncomfortably.  So what if it's just one drink?  If I don't want it, why is that her problem?  I walked out of the party, and that was the last time I saw any of them.

I've spent many a happy evening in a bar with friends piling on the Diet Cokes while they drink more interesting drinks, and it's a complete non-issue for everyone.  But there are always those people who just can't seem to deal with other people not drinking.  Why?  I don't think anyone is broken because they enjoy a few drinks.  Or because they don't like brussels sprouts, or ballet, or reading.  I don't shove my Faulkner book or Baryshnikov tapes in their face (not that I have them handy at parties), declaring I'll fix them.

I'm not sure which of us is more uncomfortable in those situations where people feel the need to "fix" my non-drinking, but they're clearly telling me that not only do they think there's something wrong with me but that it makes them uncomfortable to be around me because of it.

So I've got an idea.  I'll be me; you be you.  We'll both be cool with our differences, and those differences will make the world a more interesting place full of surprises.