Evolution of My Drinking Habits

A series of stories that changed my life.

1. The Kiss

*Image created with Leonardo.ai

Her lips tasted like cinnamon and cigarettes. Her perfume was intoxicating, and my pre-teen body responded with sensations that were entirely new and exhilarating. Her daisy-dukes were wet from the bikini she was wearing underneath, and glimpses of darkness were more exciting to me than the faded Playboy mags that I had under my mattress at home.

Her golden, sun-kissed skin and smooth stomach are still burned into my memory almost fifty years later. She was electric, and sensuous beyond her years, at least to my twelve-year old mind. Her free spirit and magnetic personality were like heroin to me. The moment I laid eyes on her standing in the bright Miami sun, I was done. Toast. She could have stabbed me and I would have smiled as my blood drained from my body.

We were visiting my cousins from the “Great State” of Texas. It was 1976. Grease was in theatres and we were going to go see it. The whole group of us. My brother, my two cousins, and this bevy of five beauties that lived on his block and hung around all the time. Coming from a place like Texas in the seventies, this place was nirvana. With a harem!