Don't Waste it!

I just turned 18. I'm sitting in the basement with Pat and some of his peeps. Ken is cracking jokes while leaning back and slowly pedaling on the gold, chrome stationary bike. "Aww, c'mon Pat, she's 18!"

Pat smiles. "You sure, Nat?"

"I'm legal, Uncle Pat, yes I'm sure!"

"Cheers!" Ken and Pat's friend, Pat cry out, Molson Ex's in their hands. 

We're all joking around and being silly when suddenly the door at the top of the stairs pops open. Everyone goes quiet as Pappy comes stomping down the pink carpeted, stairs, like he always did, if we were being too "loud". My heart racing, I got up quick, grabbed the beer, and, in a panic, looked around for a place to hide it - I didn't want him to see me drinking cause lets face it ... he could be scary! Too late. He was already at the bottom of the stairs, leaning with his right hand up against the wall of the stairway, his back to his collection of encyclopedias.

Awkwardly, I stood in the middle of the room, with my beer carrying hand behind the square concrete pillar, painted with a thick white paint, in the middle of the room. Ken and other Pat looked down at the floor while Uncle Pat returned Pappy's gaze - I was caught red handed. 

Pappy turned his gaze away from Pat, looked at me, said, "Don't waste good alcohol. Just drink it", climbed back upstairs, and then pulled the door closed.

Still holding our breath, we all turned to Pat who was smiling at me.

"Oh godddddd!!!" was all I could say!