My first alcoholic drinks

I can't remember what age I was, but when I was young, I occasionally would sneak into the closet under the stairs where my dad kept all of his liquor bottles, and I would take a swig of something. They all looked the same to me, sitting there on the shelf in that little closet, all half empty, all decorated like no other bottle in the house. There was something secret and adultish about those bottles. Soft drinks and fruit juices were all tamely adorned. And they were not forbidden. But there they were tempting me on that little shelf.

When my parents were out of the house, only on a few occasions, I went in and took a sip of a bottle. Nothing bad happened. But I did discover the taste that was warm and wild like paisleys in the mouth and sent fumes up the nostrils. But it was not interesting enough to make me try again the next day.

No, a child has no interest in alcohol unless led to it by some influence. Strong drink is only meaningful to those who have seen the dark side of life. This I believe: a person has to be brought to a point of bitterness in some major aspect of his/her life in order to understand strong drink: marriage, job, failures, personal inadequacies, tragedies. They must look back on a point or points when, as an adult, they carried an anguish that surprised them, in which they said to themselves, "I didn't know this could happen." That black moment leaves a stain, but it is the stain of truth. Upon the soul. The rose-colored glasses are removed and one has the brokenness of the world set in their laps.

With this background, one can drink liquor and experience something like confirmation. The powerful punch speaks to the soul, and in response the souls says, yes.