The Liquor Store

There was a liquor store on the corner of the street.

And in between everything else was everything I needed to know about how the world actually works before the world had any reason to teach me.

The liquor store first.

I was sixteen. Six foot five. The eyes. The charisma. And a specific kind of relentless that most people spend their entire lives trying to manufacture and either have or they don't.

I walked into that liquor store and tried to buy.

They laughed.

You're sixteen. Get out of here. Why do you keep coming back?

I kept coming back because we were tired of filling our mothers' bottles with tea and water after we drank them down.

Tired of waiting outside for a stranger or whoever was willing to make the transaction for some kids with money and no access.

I was six foot five with the eyes and the charisma and I decided that was enough.

So I kept coming back.

Day after day.

Week after week.

However long it took.

And one day the...