Give Us the Dirt! (2)

(If you haven’t read the first part of this series, please go back to the beginning so everything makes more sense. Link here: Give Us the Dirt!)

Upon entering adolescence (as I’m sure many of you can relate), I tried to find the best way to fit in with the right group of people. Since I already had the ideology of the multiple beer-guzzling action demonstrated in front of me, I thought that the entire point of consuming alcohol was to drink it very fast and as many as you can. As you can imagine, this was a terrible idea for any 12 year old. (Yes, I did say 12 year old. I was mischievous and curious from a young age.)

I wouldn’t say I was getting drunk all of the time with my new found enjoyment of alcohol, but I definitely remember early signs of lying and inappropriate behavior. I remember taking my mom’s wine coolers. It was so easy to sneak them because a 6-pack would sit in our fridge well over a month at a time and my parents would completely forget they were there. Like I said before, mom was “allergic.”

My brothers and I also noticed these other bottles that would appear in our house from time to time, usually after a family gathering, and they would be stored in this special cabinet that was under lock and key. What was so special about these bottles?  And why did they need a key? The forbidden drinks became even more intriguing to me so I decided one time when my parents left for the day that we were going to investigate these special bottles.

I remember finding one bottle in particular that was in a purple box with a purple lush bag wrapped around the bottle that had a gold crown on top. Must be fancy to have it’s own bag, I would think to myself. I bet it tastes like rainbows to have such a fancy outfit. It did not. Straight whiskey never has had a big appeal to me unless I was trying to look like a bad-ass in front of friends in college, but that’s a different part of the story.

The introduction to the “hard stuff” was a pivotal point in my drinking career. It meant that there was more out there than the over-sugared wine coolers and beer that tasted like someone burped in my mouth. I had the taste of something new that made me feel powerful, rebellious, and most of all light headed and tipsy, which is the basis for all of my drinking to come.

When I was young, I started to gain a tolerance for drinking. Not so much as to say I was able to put down many drinks without the side effects of being tipsy. Rather, I built a tolerance for what was acceptable and unacceptable behavior when drinking. Let’s just say there was more acceptable actions than unacceptable. I had totally lowered my standards at this point.

(To Be Continued…)

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