It was nowhere near the first time I drank, or the first time I drank in excess, that started in High School and even had some basis in Middle School. But I remember when I started drinking at times that most would consider inappropriate.

I was in the Army Reserves, working for the school newspaper and the opening shift at a restaurant near the University. I would do Army drills one weekend a month, work on homework and newspaper stories in every spare moment, go open the restaurant 4 or 5 days a week at 5:30 a.m., and most of those days get through lunch rush, speed home and clean up, gather my bags and jet to class. Full days and nights, every minute.

I started having an army buddy buy me bottles of Seagram’s Gin, big bumpy glass bottles I’d keep in the crisper drawer of the apartment fridge. I’d rush home before class and grab a souvenir shot glass, fill it with cold gin, drain it, do it again before the shower, then once more before dashing out the door. I’d get to class lightheaded and high.