Allright, what the hell, I'm up for a little 'bullshitting'...After straight, I decided to break sobriety sometime in April or May of '85. I had graduated that January. After more or less squatting in a group house on 27th and Howard, I shacked up with an older gal (not much older, damn you, I was 19 and she was 24ish) who had picked me up at a bar and invited me back to a party at her place. I was awestricken by this sexy woman who would have reminded you of Cindy Lauper with one hell of an edge. She was an artist, in art school. She painted with oil. Pictures of people ripping out their own hearts on backgrounds of red bricks was one persistent theme of hers. She was good, and GREAT in the sack. I had a nose-bleed the first time we had sex. I don't know why. Anyway, she took me to an art opening...lots of free food and...well first, I had eaten a rum-ball accidently. I tasted alcohol. Iwas a little freaked out, but at that point I said "fuck it" and decided that I was gonna have me some of that free white wine! She was like "Hey, I thought you didn't drink" and I said something like "Well, I guess I do now..."
From that day on, we drank plenty together, and partook of other substances as well. She turned me on to the writings of Charles Bukowski, one of the finest writers of our time, and a heavy drinker... ::cheers::