When everyone was telling me that I was too young to drink, I felt compelled to act out against the restriction. I didn’t understand that this was a natural reaction to having someone tell you they can do something but you can’t; I just knew that the other kids in high school were drinking too. ‘Keggers’ were parties that we usually had in the woods in Montana, even when it was well below freezing. We kept warm by hovering around a bonfire, cuddling with other drunk kids, and drinking from the keg of beer that was often buried partially in the snow.
I liked getting drunk, but I hated the taste of beer. Instead, I decided that my drink of choice would be a cheap but popular brand of American whiskey. I would name it, but just typing it out might make me feel a little nauseous. I’d drink the stuff until I was good and loaded, and then I would keep drinking. It didn’t just make me feel tipsy, it made me feel like an adult.
Only they were allowed to drink, after all. Continue reading “Thoughts That Hurt To Think #004 – All Booze is Brandy!”