used to walk along the bellies of lifted highways and the sides of grounded roads to drink from discarded alcohol bottles

i got my most recent test back and i am negative for every single oral disease you can possibly think of unless theres something so strong and unknown in me it's completely undetectable yet i see that as an impossibility

id crouch down low besides the thicket of woods and brush that lined unkempt cracked highway and i would pick up whatever i found, the first whiskey i ever drank was peach-whiskey in a tiny pocketable bottle that i brought home with me. i dont like whiskey anymore but in the moment id drink whatever i could find out of curiosity opposed to need

i drank beer, whiskey, absolut vodka in the plain kind, so many from tiny bottles that you could down in one sip. alcohol always sat at the very bottom with some miscellaneous liquid that watered down the burn and mud i wouldve spat out every time i tasted dirt-water. not much was filled with dirt, and the only bottles i avoided were the dark brown kind with even darker piss inside. i opened up one and learned what that darkness was

absolut was my favorite and id enter wooded areas with dirt-bike or four-wheeler intended roads and sparse trailer-type homes to scour for vodka. the taste was absolut terribleness but it was the easiest to identify dirt-water, mud, piss, or mysterious thick clear items inside. all the small better-tasting bottles would be too dark to distinctly see liquids other than dehydrated urine that filled it to the brim and threatened spillage with any curious opening of the item

i would carry one bottle down this road with vegetation taller than my child body and stick to the beige dry dirt trail to avoid random deep pools of mud that were covered by grass and other items of nature. i crossed one when i heard a bike, because last i searched here, i was stopped and offered a place to stay because he thought i was running, to his words

sometimes a family would catch me and wave and look behind themselves on whatever vehicle (golfcart, slow-moving truck with a full bed) in the oddity that was me hauling empty bottles of alcohol down this road in 105 degree summer heat

id go home and fill them with concoctions of whatever twenty something beers (some in different brands) and drink it like it was one big intended product

i stopped when my parents found two backpacks full of beer but that was the earliest point in my life i felt like a Real American

no foreign