I don’t remember the first time I drank beer; I was probably five or six years old. I didn’t have a can or bottle of Rheingold, I sipped from my father’s. By the time I was seven, I accompanied my father on his weekly Saturday afternoon visit to the Cozy Tavern, a neighborhood landmark. Women were not allowed to sit at the Cozy’s bar, they had to sit at small tables scattered throughout the premises—but women didn’t frequent the Cozy on Saturday afternoons. I, however, not only sat at the bar, I sat on the bar.
At seven years old, it doesn’t seem odd to be the only kid in a bar with a bunch of beer drinkers and cigar smokers; it feels good. For that hour, I was the star—the center of attention. The barkeeper would allow me to pick out any flavor of soda I wanted from his big cooler, and that seemed like a very special privilege. I don’t remember any of the men at the Cozy; none of them were members of my parents social circle.
After entering adulthood, I was surprised to learn that none of my friends hung out at bars with their fathers when they were little kids. None of my friends mixed alcohol with their milk in the high school cafeteria, either. Weird, huh?
Images shamelessly ripped from: http://grub.gunaxin.com/funny-beer-photos/2528
I got a much later start on my drinking. But I caught up with everyone. Boy, oh, boy, did I. Thus, I don't drink now. Maybe if I started earlier like you, I wouldn't have felt compelled to drink everything in site as an adult?
ReplyDeleteLynn
Lynn, I nearly forgot my intro to hard liquor. My parents favored fruity drinks, like Old Fashioneds, and my father would give me the fruit from his. Or the cherries from his Manhattans. I used to suck the liquor out of the fruit before I ate it. I guess I really was my father's favorite.
ReplyDeletemy parents saved all the alcohol for themselves -- selfish bastards ...
ReplyDelete"Drink everything in site." Jeez, I'm totally computerized.
ReplyDeleteI do remember finding the bottle of creme de menthe that they poured over the ice cream. They wondered how the bottle got so low. I was an alcky from an early age. My genes knew it, I just didn't have the opportunity to act it out until I was teenage or so. And even then I didn't drink alcoholically until college. And odder still neither mom nor dad were alcoholics, but my grandfather was. It skipped a generation. My gneration—we are all drunks, cousins, everybody. Some of us got the cure. Some of us are dead from drinking. It ain't pretty.