Have a drink

 Some people remember what they were wearing on some past day. I remember just about every instance of alcohol passing my lips aside for a few sips of wine or champagne here and there.

Liquor

At my first party in my second year at college, the host learned I didn’t like beer. He whipped out his blender and made me a vanilla daiquiri. I didn’t  like that either, but it was a nice thing to do.

My drink of choice when I  had to choose was a whiskey sour. I done remember why. I must have had a sip somewhere that convinced me I could tolerate it. I suspect a brother-in-law was involved.

My first was bought for me the summer I turned 21 by my boss at the Justice Department. I walked back to the office a bit dizzy.

My second and last whiskey sour came courtesy of one of my oldest sister’s friends. She wanted to see It Could Happen to You. I’m a fan of Bridget Fonda and Nick Cage, so off we went. We got there a bit early, and she suggested we get a drink at a nearby bar. I ordered a Coke. She responded, no way you’re making me drink  alone. I reordered a whiskey sour.

Beer

I remember having a  sip of Dad’s beer while he used the riding mower to cut Gram’s grass.

At the aforementioned first party, I got beer from the keg and had two drinks. I then went outside for two reasons: I thought I might throw up and I wanted to pour out my beer. 

Later that year, I became assistant managing editor of the student newspaper. After the first week, the outgoing staff took the new staff out for a drink. There was a pitcher at the table, and I was just nursing a cup with a sip here and there. At the end of the night, I was elected to finish the pitcher, which had about half a glass-worth, what was missing from my cup.

I recently had a sip of Guinness on a St. Patrick’s Day.

Which brings me to my oldest niece’s wedding last weekend.

They had a regular bar and a candy bar, or buffet. I was sitting next to my oldest nephew when he returned from the candy one with a nice little bag of treats.

At the end of dinner he asked if anyone needed anything from the bar. I was sure he meant the candy buffet, so I said, sure, I’ll have a nice assortment. He may have raised his eyebrows but off he went.

He returned with his sister, who put two little glasses of beer in front of me. Then he put two more and said something about getting a nice assortment. 

I then realized the problem. Whoops.

I also knew that there was no way I could tell him because I’d start laughing too hard, and only my sister can understand me through my tears.

I started sampling them, but he noticed I kept smiling. He asked me why. Fortunately my sister came up then, but even she couldn’t  understand until my third recitation.

And for the record, I wore shorts.

It took me a while to write this as I am having arm problems, but it OK today.