Peer Pressure and How to Avoid It

After the 10 year bender I've been on, I recently decided to give up drinking for one month. That's right, one month. And because it was not court mandated (not yet anyhow), no one seemed to believe that I could do it. Those people... would be right.
Last night I broke down and reentered my home away from home: the bar. ANY bar! True it had only been about a week and a half, and techincally I work in a bar, too. But as much as I love sitting at home and relaxing on the couch, there just aren't enough new Offices on to keep my attention.
So last night, I called my posse (word) and told them to get their drinking shoes on! They were still under the impression that I planned to be the TRULY designated driver. It was quaint in concept, but once I got out I realized just how hard it was to go out and not to drink. The whole system is predicated on getting wasted. But I insisted on sipping my Coca-Cola on the rocks for a little over an hour, no sweat.
Why is it that a man will only offer to buy you a beer if you've told him you're not drinking? I take that back... Other conditions include: 1. cheap beer specials... we're talking a buck, max; 2. unprecedented hotness; 3. he's insanely rich, but hung like a pimple. I rest my case. Anyway, in this partiulcar case, I'm positive it was for a different reason entirely.... to prove to himself that he could make me bend. Despite all my refusals, my devilishly handsome pal Nick (first cousin to Cris Angel, btw. And yes, I do wish I was kidding) purchased me a cool, delicious beer and placed it in front of me. Try as I might, I could not resist her sweet temptation for long. The condensation on the bottle reminded me of my nose on a moderately tepid afternoon... How could I reject the beauty inside the bottle? It would be like I was rejecting myself! Essentially, I caved. Peer pressure - 1, Stephanie - 0. A.A., anyone?