Tonight I was asked;" When was the first time you got drunk?" Well, I didn't have a ready answer. I was just stopped, because I had to seriously consider this. I was married and had a child before I even came close. My husband and I went to a house-party thrown by his brother,and my husband plied me with sole-gin fizzes all night long.(In my home state, at that time a married woman could legally drink, regardless of her age.) I was 19 at the time, but I remember every moment of that evening, and even though I got very warm and relaxed,I still wasn't staggering or slurring my words or in any way out of control,so I don't consider that the first time I got drunk. I honestly don't recall drinking much of anything until I was tending bar, years later. I was to the point in my employment that I was trusted to open the bar at 6 a.m.,and worked straight through until 6p.m.. It was a Friday,and I had run all day long, filling drink orders, cooking food,and cashing checks, and had not had a chance to sit down all day, and when I finally was relieved, my feet were numb, clear up to my knees. There was no way I was going to be able to walk the one block to my home, so I went around the bar, and sat on a bar stool until the feeling came back to my legs and feet,and asked Mark for a glass of ice water. It was very unusual for me to be there past my shift, and the word spread all up and down the bar that I was there. Myriad times customers had offered to buy me drinks,and I always thanked them, but never took the drink, because I felt it was wrong to drink while working. Plus, I never really liked alcohol, anyway. But, this one night, all of a sudden, I had people buying me drinks left and right, bottles of beer, glasses of beer,and shots were lined up in front of me as though they thought I was the thirstiest person on the planet,and since I was stuck sitting there, I decided to at least make a show of appreciation for the patron's generosity. I tasted a draft beer,and it was so cold, and I was so hot and sweaty and my mouth was so dry, that it really hit the spot. I had folks coming up to talk to me, and they began playing all my favorite songs on the Juke box, and the place seemed to fill up with all sorts of people who knew me,and wanted to buy me whatever I wanted. I felt trapped, in a way, because all I really wanted to do, was to regain my ability to feel my legs and feet,and walk home, have dinner with my son, take a bath and go to bed. But, when I finally expressed my wish to someone, that got all blown up out of proportion, and suddenly I was given the phone, and spoke to my mother who said, don't worry about hurrying home, Yon son is already in bed, having had his dinner,and you need some time to relax and unwind anyway, enjoy yourself, and come home when you're ready! The next thing I knew, I had a basket of deep fried mushrooms in front of me, (which everyone knew was one of my favorites) and someone had called out for Frank's Pizza, which is absolutely the best there is, and I decided to just have one drink, one little sip, out of each drink in front of me. Well, it started out with beer, and some shots of schnapps, but it ended up with dozens of beers, and shots of brandy, and wine spritzers and 7/7's, and peppermint schnapps, peach schnapps, and Harvey wallbangers, and sloe screws, and you name it, I" tasted" it that night! By the time the feeling returned to my feet and legs, the rest of me was feeling no pain,either. In along with all of that I had the mushrooms and the pizza,so thankfully, I didn't have any trouble navigating, but I was definitely "lit". About the time the place was supposed to close, some people were talking to me about going out to the "Crystal", and then taking me out to breakfast,but I at least had the presence of mind to drink my glass of ice water,and say goodnight, and go home.
So, there you have it, the first time I got drunk I was about 30. However, it certainly wasn't the last. Little by little, it turned into a regular thing, because I always had trouble with my feet, and that one block walk up the hill to home got longer and longer as my hours got longer. Until one day, I woke up and realized I couldn't go on this way,and I wanted out of the bars and away from booze and drunks. And it wasn't very long that the Lord took me out of that lifestyle, got me a better job,and took the taste for booze away from me, Praise God!,Just overnight!
Oh, from time to time, I might suddenly think, gee, a beer would taste good right now. But then I wait a minute,and the feeling goes away. Always. I haven't had a drop in all the time I have lived in this building, and that's been 14 years. Beyond that, I don't keep track. Who cares? I don't miss it. Praise the Lord, I'm glad it's gone!
OUI?
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