The Park, Bitterman.

Lately, when I drink a glass of wine, it gives me heartburn. When I was in college, drinking wine products used to make my shoulders hurt, which I'll never understand. And yes, I'm talking about wine coolers, you bastage. I didn't start drinking beer until I was corrupted by my sister's housemates, the senior class ladies of The Limelight.


Two memories stand out from that night: 


First, it was a Saturday night during our Fall Glee Club concert weekend, and my high-school girlfriend Beth had traveled up to Oxford with my parents. Beth is a member of the Mormon religion which frowns on the consumption of alcohol, for as I understand it, they are taught that alcohol is not good for the belly, but rather for washing bodies. Being a model child in high school, this axiom really didn't affect my drink selection, but I didn't opt for the Everclear sponge bath, either. Knowing that Beth would not applaud my decision to experiment with alcohol in college, I was honestly more nervous about her finding out than my parents knowing about it. The topic didn't come up until right before my parents were about to leave Oxford. Just as we were saying our goodbyes, Beth asked me if I was going to drink that night. I told her that it might happen and to my surprise, she took it quite well as if she knew it was just a matter of time.


In the spirit of feeling so liberated by her understanding, I proceeded to drink nine Natty Lights and proclaim it was the best beer ever.


Second, Shawn Chaney, who was my next-door neighbor in Stanton Hall our freshman year, came with me to my sister's party at The Limelight and made some obscene gesture involving his tongue and his lips to either Christy or another Limelight Lady. It didn't take. He didn't care.


To recap, as a freshman at Miami, I joined the Glee Club, drank wine coolers, and dated a Mormon who was still in high school.  How in the hell was I not hooking up every single night?


Toodles. (again...still puzzled.)