When I look at Momo... I see too much of myself. I've never seen the fun in being even mildly intoxicated.
Hell yeah. I decided back in high school that I wasn't the least bit interested in (a) spending money I didn't have to (b) drink something that tasted awful, and (c) risk all the fallout I'd get from that, so that I would (d) feel awful the next day -- quite exclusive of the (e) high probability that when wasted I'd have done or said something I'd have bitterly regretted doing -- just because (f) most everyone else was doing it, for (g) benefits no one could particularly articulate to me, beyond that (h) most everyone else was doing it.
Back in college days, a friend had an apartment across from the university, and one semester she had pretty much weekly drunken bashes after chorus rehearsal. Completely fried, she decided that she wanted to see the roof of her apartment building, and not liking the sound of that, I followed her and another guy up. She started dancing drunkenly on the parapet, five stories up ... and started to topple over. Pinwheeling. Other guy was blitzed and giggling, no use.
Now it happens I'm an acrophobe. Quite a severe one. I can barely climb a two story ladder. I certainly can't climb a tree higher than that. You will not get me within 10' of the edge of a roof. Unquestionably the bravest thing I ever did was force myself to the edge and pull her back, and it felt like it took me an eternity, step by step, to get there. (Probably didn't hurt that I had a huge crush on her, and that helped blow through the paralytic terror.)
That was 35 years ago now. She had a career, got married, had three daughters. The youngest started college this fall; the middle daughter was married this past spring. She's had a long life, and we're still friends.
And she would've been dead on the pavement decades ago if I'd been drinking too.