The journalist A A Gill's forthcoming book, The Angry Island: hunting the English, is one man's attempt to get to grips with what the English are really about. Inevitably this means that, alongside the chapters on class and gardens, the Cotswolds and the word "sorry", there is one devoted to drink.

We are, Gill observes, a nation of binge-drinkers, who obsess about hangovers and, "as with so many things that ought to be intuitive relaxed fun", impose a great many rules on drinking. "Few things are quite as English as the minute listing and grading of wine", not to mention "drinking games, the ritual of rhyme and forfeit, the childish repetitions in hot smoky rooms". On the subject of how the English drink, I would like to add a few of my own observations.

Only the English declare their intended level of alcohol consumption, up front, when making social arrangements: "I'd love to, but I can't get drunk. I'll be leaving at 10.30." Or, alternatively: "I really feel like getting totally rat-arsed."

Only the English, faced with an unexpectedly bad hangover, persist in claiming that they have food poisoning.

Only the English can dislike a teenage female celebrity (Charlotte Church) because she is successful and sorted, then fall in love with her because of her reputation for larging it on Cheeky Vimtos.

Only we order the wine before looking at the menu in a restaurant, and then chivvy the waiter if it takes more than a minute to reach the table.

Only we dare to ask wine waiters which choice of wine is "the least hangovery".

Only we expect breakages at adult parties and actually put away anything of value before all the fortysomething guests arrive.

Only we give up drink and can't risk leaving the house or seeing anyone for as long as we're on the wagon.

Only we live in fear of our children starting to drink.

Only we expect to be officially drunk in order to get it together with the opposite sex.

Only we assume that people who don't drink are boring.

Only we consider keeping Alka-Seltzer, Nurofen, Berocca and Pepto-Bismol in our office desk drawer to be perfectly normal.

Only we go nuts if a waiter removes a glass with two sips remaining in the bottom.

Only an English girl would describe another girl as a "lightweight" when it comes to alcohol.

I could go on. How the English drink is a subject that deserves a whole book of its own.