I use the analogy ; If I see a man banging his head against a wall , the solution to his headache is not to sell him an asprin. It's to tell him to stop banging his head against the wall.
Unbelievably it has become another one of those things that, if the worst had come to the worst, would have somehow been my fault. I was accused of being that desperate for a drink that I never bothered checking the glass prior to pouring. Now I don't know about you but it's not my habit to go; bottle of wine - check, corkscrew - check, glass - check. OK, good to go once I've initiated a full on search of all requisite components for any hidden items. None? OK, then we're good to pour, sip and relax. I did point out the utter carnage that a diamond solitaire would have caused to my digestive tract. Worry? Sympathy? Concern? None of it. Just a far too detailed description of what she would have had me doing post-defecation over a bank holiday weekend, if I had have been a glugger rather than the refined sipper that I am.