of others to preemptively inform the room of my beliefs, normally in a forced manner and often leading to confusion as well.

My favorite is when the wait staff comes to clear the wine glasses from the folks who hadn't indicated they wanted wine at larger group dinners. Often, a good percentage of the table declines for a variety of reasons. Invariably, someone feels the need to explain to the table that I "am not allowed to drink wine because [I'm] a Mormon."

It usually about this time that the host looks around the table at the half-dozen other folks without wine glasses and asks, "so... you're all Mormons?". Predictably, this then then triggers a cascade of people feeling compelled to explain that they're not, and then needing uncomfortably justify their particular reasons: that they are recovering alcoholics, struggling with weight loss, a pregnancy, Islam, simply don't like it, or some other reason that they hadn't intended or wanted to explain to a bunch of colleagues/customers/investors.

Quite often, one of those explanations ends up generating far more surprise, scrutiny, and conversation than mine, the opposite of what the loudmouth had hoped to bring about.

After all the disclaimers and backtracking, I take great joy in tossing the bombshell, that "actually, I can indeed drink wine if I want to," which usually causes the now-disappointed instigator to get defensive, as if I've just accused them of lying, and then watching them manically try and convince both me and the table that I'm lying, and how I'd be disowned by my family, kicked out of a cult, and ultimately go straight to hell for both the lying and the drinking... (if I were to do so)."

Calmly, I just explain that refraining from alcohol it is indeed guidance that is typically observed by folks who are fully engaged in the faith, but is an individual choice, administered on the honor system and that frankly, my reason for abstaining has as much or more to do with the fact that alcohol is an expensive hobby, and I already have too many of those.

That usually gets a few chuckles, and the other person looks like the weirdo, but a bitter one with an axe to grind. We then proceed to have lovely conversations about the other aforementioned hobbies.

It's played out so many dozens of times, I've lost count.