You're listening to Shortwave from NPR.

If you've tried alcohol, you might remember the first time as some rebellious choice or as part of some holiday

ritual like Champagne at New Year's. Or it could have been by accident.

I had mine in the middle of winter, somewhere around this time of year. I was only about

eight or nine and a snowstorm had hit the tiny town I lived in along Washington State's

border with Canada. The power had been knocked out and the house was freezing. So my mom

gathered me and my brother and my sister and gave us a tiny sip of cognac to

keep us warm.

Telling it now, it kind of feels like something out of a novel,

but if you're Katie Wu,

that first sip can also be pretty mundane.

I vaguely remember taking that little errant sip of wine at some dinner party my parents

had when I was a kid.

I don't think that did anything to me except to make me go,

I'm spitting this out. Years later, Katie finally tried another drink because I was a very, very, very well-behaved

high schooler.

And I sort of already knew what was coming

because I had watched my parents get extremely red

and goofy and sweaty and warm every time they went out and had sake or red wine. I knew

what was likely in my future. Like clockwork when Katie started to sip that drink in college, her face bloomed red.

I would compare myself to a human stop sign or if Rudolph's nose was the entirety of my face,

like truly the warmth blooms from my cheeks

...