[No, I have no idea how long I’m leaving this up here. I may take it down before you even see it.]
I had my first drink when I was three. My parents were having a huge party downstairs, and I’d been brought down to say hi, in my jammies. I must have escaped my watcher, and slipped into the living room, behind a card table in the corner. People had left drink glasses all over, and were busy ignoring many of them, and I decided to sip one to see what was so good about them. I still remember the sweet taste of the bourbon and sugar on my lips.
I had my first drink when I was fourteen. It was New Year’s Eve. MJ’s and my parents were going out to a party, and thought, for once, we could have our own small celebration. We watched the ball drop on TV, and drank our small allotment of champagne. I felt very strange and dizzy the next day.
I had my first drink when I was eighteen. It was a St. Pauli Girl beer. My father gave it to me ceremoniously. It was the same brand he drank all the time. I felt very important and grown up. I saved the bottle and turned it into a lamp later. It’s sitting on my dresser right now.
white pebble 