The First Should Be Last?!?! Part 1

Alcohol is a part of the Williams way of life. I grew up with a Grandfather who was a serious alcoholic. I mean, the absolute worst. My Grandfather was known for actually staying drunk for 2 weeks at a time, sometimes longer. (And when I say 2 weeks, I mean 24 hours a day for two weeks straight). Growing up watching this, it was more a spectacle than anything. My Grandfather was a gentle drunk. Well, that is to everyone other than my Grandmother. So my impression of alcohol wasn't terribly jaded.

So it didn't take me long before I became curious of alcohol and its effects.


Date: Fall 1993


Location: Canoga Park, California


The first part of this story that you have to understand is that in my freshman and sophomore years of high school, I missed a lot of school. Probably at least a third of the time. This day was no exception. My guy Edwin and I did our usual that day. Leave for school around 7:30. Hit the local donut shop for several games of Streetfighter II. After wandering around the west valley, we found out that there was a ditch party at the house of one of Edwin's friends. We didn't have anywhere else to go, so we walked the couple of miles to dude's crib.

When we got there, it turned out to be a bunch of white people there. Now the school that we went to was mostly white and latino, so it really didn't bother me the crowd that we would be hanging out with. About an hour after our arrival, someone started going around and asking people what they wanted from the liquor store. At this point, I had only drank the occasional wine cooler, and one time I drank some of my Aunt's brandy. (With orange juice no less, yuck). But people kept placing their orders, so when it came my turn to order, all I could get out was "Get me a 40". Pay attention to the year this occured. At that time, all I knew was that they drank 40s in Boyz N The Hood, so I said screw it. Well, that elicited this response from the Beer Man "What kind of 40"? Damn, I'm stuck now. I thought that 40 was the brand name. Goes to show what I knew then. Just so I didn't blow my cover, I replied "it doesn't matter". I hit my man with a $5, and he was gone.

About, oh, 30 minutes later he returned with a box holding everyone's drink orders. He passes everyone their drinks, and when he gets to me, he hands me a 40. of MICKEY'S! (Goddamn white boys). So I open it, and start to drinking. It couldn't have taken me but about 20 minutes to drink that whole 40. And back then, I was relatively skinny. (15 years old, 5'9" 130lbs.). So all the liquor rushed to my head. As I now know, I was buzzed at that point. In my mind though, I needed more alcohol.


There were some people who were doing shots of KAHLUA! (Again, Goddamn white boys). I decided to join them. I had probably 3 shots. It didn't taste like much to me. By this point, some of the black people from our school showed up. And that's when the fun really began. They brought, wait for it......... 40 ounces of, wait for it.......... OLD ENGLISH 800! Ah yes, what I now know is the real deal. One of the brothas handed me a half a 40 of Old E, and dared me to take it to the head. Again not wanting to be considered a punk, I downed it.

Well, that was more than enough for me. I had reached my limit. Feeling good at that point, I was ready to get back to school. (I needed to get back for 5th period because if I was absent, the teacher was under specific instructions from my father to call him). Edwin was able to secure a ride from one of the brothas for us back to school. This was a serious mistake. My man couldn't drive. We took all back streets to the school, and I swear dude was taking turns like a Nascar driver. 5 minutes later we arrived at the school. At this time, I'm really feeling the alcohol. Dude tossed me around something awful. So we walk to our cafeteria, and meet up with these two girls Julie and Cindy. (I had a serious thing for Julie at the time, which is ironic because Edwin wound up marrying her. Ain't life funny?).



Not two minutes into the conversation, I had to excue myself. I began to stumble to the restroom. I didn't make it. I got into the restroom, but I couldn't get to the stall. I threw up all over the restroom floor. The nerd kids used to hang out in there, so luckily for me my reputation wasn't harmed by me losing my cookies in public. I went back to the cafeteria and finished hanging out with Edwin, Julie, and Cindy. Even though Edwin wasn't in the restroom, he knew I had called Earl. (Or called for short). And he put me on blast like NASA. I was the joke for the rest of the day. I don't know how I made it through the rest of the day. I went to 5th and 6th period, and took my ass straight home after school. I had a serious hangover.

I swear after that day, I said what everyone always says: "I'm never drinking again"! And to be honest, I didn't really drink much until I was 23. That's when I moved in with a bartender, and I've been good friends with alcohol ever since. But not Mickey. 15 years later, I'm still holding a grudge!

-DrizaDre-

Disclaimer: When I say "Goddamn White Boys", I don't say it to be offensive. The video explains how I mean it.