This story is about a Malaysian who chose sobriety and learned how quickly a simple “no” can be treated as an invitation to cross boundaries.It is about power, entitlement, and what happens when someone forces a trauma they were never owed.
I don’t drink. Here’s why.
I’m out with colleagues after work. A company enforced “social hour”. Drinks after office hours. The usual. Some colleagues don’t drink. They’re Muslim. I’m not, but I still don’t drink. It’s been seven years to the day since my last drink. I don’t make a big deal out of it. I just decline politely and order a Coke, juice, or water. Most people don’t notice or care.
My boss wouldn’t let it go
Except for my new boss. John joined the company a few months ago. Ever since then, he’s been insistent that I should drink during these weekly sessions. Pushy about it.
“Come on, just have a beer with the rest of us,” he said.
“You’re making the rest of us look bad.” he’d snark
“What are you?” he teased, “Scared of having fun?”
Polite declining doesn’t work. He pushes every single time. And can’t take a hint to leave it alone. I have told him more than once to drop it. He doesn’t listen. This mat-salleh thinks that for some reason “No” means “ask until you get the explanation.”
I finally snapped
Last month was the breaking point. We were celebrating a colleague’s promotion, and it’s at the usual company bar in TTDI. I was collecting the tray of drinks – beers, cocktails and of course just a Coke for myself.
John cornered me at the bar. And started as usual, “Seriously? Not drinking even to celebrate? That’s just not right.”
“I’m fine with coke.”
He followed me back to our table and kept going. “Come on, man, what’s the real reason? I know it’s not religious. Are you on medication or something?”
I hand out the drinks and try to keep the conversation going but he kept pushing, interrupting, talking over other people to get his point across.
It was one snide remark too many. I snapped.
What I never wanted to share
“Seven years ago, I was the designated driver on a night out. I got drunk instead. My best friend drove me home. On the LDP, there was an accident. I was drunk. I don’t know what happened. All I know is that I woke up in hospital.”
I glared at him, “I should have been driving. I was drunk. He was sober. My. Best. Friend. Died. Is that a good enough reason for you?”
The table went silent. John’s face went white.
I wasn’t done, “I went to therapy. I was on medication for three years.
I felt responsible for killing my best friend because I had a few beers, or some whiskey, or maybe a few tequila shots.
Walking out
I finished my Coke, “So no, I won’t be having “just one beer”. Not with you. Not with anyone. Ever.”
I grabbed my laptop bag, settled my bill, and left. John left about ten minutes later. Everyone else drifted off soon after. “Social night” fell apart after that. People quietly stopped showing up, even though John kept insisting.
The thing is, it’s all true. That’s exactly why I don’t drink. But I don’t usually tell people. It’s heavy. It makes things awkward.
I’d rather just quietly not drink and avoid the whole conversation.
John can shove his apology
The following Monday, John called me into his office. I brought two colleagues with me as witnesses. He tried to apologise. I told him, politely, to shove it and that unless it was strictly work related I would ignore him: I wanted no social interaction with him.
Things were tense after that. It didn’t help that he kept trying to apologise. First in person. Then by text. Asking how he could “make it right”.
I wanted to reply with one word. “Die.”
Instead, I said nothing because I was already back in therapy. Not because of the accident. Because of John. Because he had dragged it all back to the forefront of my mind after years of medication, and therapy. He had dragged it all back up after I’d spent years putting it behind me.
He decided for some reason that me ignoring him was something he couldn’t ignore and decided to teach me a lesson.
HR, then my lawyer get involved
He filed an HR complaint against me. For harassing him, and ruining a “weekly department social event.”
I explained everything to HR. His repeated badgering. His refusal to drop the topic. Multiple witnesses backed me up. HR told me they were “sympathetic to my situation” but ruled I was in the wrong for “trauma dumping.” I should have “firmly told him to stop without going into graphic detail.”
A warning letter was added to my file. I would either sign it, or be fired. As far as the HR representative was concerned, that was the end of the matter.
I am an accountant. I live and die by documentation and the numbers. I took a day’s emergency leave to meet my lawyer. She took one look at my summary, the witness statements, and was sporting a grin of avarice in under five minutes. She took my case and her letter arrived by registered mail, direct to the HR Manager’s Desk.
What this is really about
This was never about alcohol.
It’s about boundaries. About the power John-Mat-Salleh thought he had because he’s a foreign hire or something? I don’t know or care. He treated my “No,” as granting him the right to interrogate me. “No” is an answer, complete sentence and boundary.
It took a thirty minute meeting with the Director of HR, John, my lawyer and me to resolve everything: John was ordered to give me a formal apology and was placed on “administrative leave pending reassignment.” The warning letter was removed from my dossier.
Sometimes, when people won’t accept a polite answer, they force you to give them the one you were trying to spare them from hearing.
Since there’s now a vacancy, I’m thinking about applying for John’s job.
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