When Did You Have Your First Adult Beverage?
I was sixteen, which is probably shockingly late by today’s standards. I was with Rocky and Mike, in Rocky’s li’l blue car, probably blasting a Kiss kassette. We were planning to go to a high school basketball game, and somehow got it into our minds to try to buy beer instead.
Yeah right, I thought, that’s about as likely as seeing a set of three-dimensional female breasts tonight. But the conversation wouldn’t die and, in fact, started to build momentum.
In retrospect, I realize I was conned. Rocky, especially, insisted I looked the oldest and should be the one to go into the store. It’s the same tactic Toney uses, when she doesn’t want to make a salad for dinner. “You do it so much better,” she says. Heh.
But I allowed myself to be manipulated by my “friends” that night, and walked into Wagner’s Market in Dunbar, with terror sweat rolling down my back. I was certain I’d be beaten, arrested, beaten again, then sodomized.
The drinking age was 18 at that point, so I was a full two years early. Sweet Jesus…
The guy behind the counter couldn’t have been much older than 20 himself, which I considered a positive. When I came through the door he greeted me with a “Hey, man!” So he was both young and friendly… He probably won’t call the cops, I assured myself. Worst case: I’ll leave empty-handed, and be mocked by Rocky and Mike for half an hour.
This was during the days of 3.2 beer, so there wasn’t much to choose from. It was mostly just Anheuser-Busch and Miller products. But what did I know about it, anyway? I grabbed a six-pack of Miller High Life in bottles, took a deep breath, and walked to the counter.
“Anything else?” the guy said, as he started ringing up my purchase. Unbelievable! I handed him the money with a clammy shaking claw, and got the hell out of there before he realized his error.
“You only got six?!” Rocky hollered when I returned to the car. It was amazing, simply amazing. Instead of celebrating my earth-shattering victory, he wanted me to go back inside and do it over again. I told him to slam it up his ass, and reminded him he could buy it, if he wanted more. He swallowed hard, and said, “Yeah, six will probably be enough.”
We drove around the streets of Dunbar, and I tasted beer for the first time in my life. The first few sips were difficult, but I quickly adjusted. And by the time we reached the halfway point of our second bottles, I told Rocky to return to Wagner’s. I was going back in!
The guy looked at me sideways this time, but didn’t give me any problem. So we went to the high school, parked out near the track, and polished off the second six-pack.
Then we went to the basketball game, and I experienced for the first time how alcohol can transform an otherwise humdrum night, into something exciting and dangerous. It was that most slippery of slopes.
And I have much more I wanted to tell you on this subject, including the story of my first encounter with hard liquor, but I’ll have to get to it tomorrow. I’m all out of time here.
Please use the comments section to tell us about your first alcoholic beverage, and I’ll see ya next time.
And, by the way, here’s Rocky “hanging out” in front of Wagner’s Market, a few years later. Yeah, who the hell knows?
Filed under: Daily
First? Whoohooo!!
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I was the beer boy for my dad’s softball team, and the delivery charge for the beers was as much as I could get down before the beer was delivered. I think I was 6.
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I had my first adult beverage around 9:30 today. Why?
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Ta-da!
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top ten woo hoo!!! i have a photo of me drinking a pabst blue ribbon at age 3 i guess i always loved beer and my parents had to put it “up high” to keep it away from me. i drank my first real drink at age 10. but i am not an alcoholic, i am a drunk, alcoholics attend meetings.
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A childish top ten woo hoo. first adult beverage…tuborg gold….who knew it would lead to a life of alcoholism
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lucky number…
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First beer was probably at around 14 at a Jr. high dance. I think it was a Schlitz Malt or something gross along those lines. A buddy of mine went one step braver than I and sucked down a pint of Bacardi rum, passed out and had to be taken to the local hospital where he ended up hearing a ton of bitching from my mother, who worked there. He told me a few days later that the only thing he remembered of the whole evening was my mom giving him utter hell for getting drunk. Good times!!
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I can barely remember my last beer, much less my first one.
The first time I got caught by the parents drinking way too much beer, I was 13, summer of ’73.
The next beer, about 7 hours from now, and it’ll be a Keith’s IPA.
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Good Afternoon Surf Reporters!!!
A topic that takes after me own heart~ Love the Miller High Life bottle, I got 24 of those in my ‘fridge right now.
Growing up, the old man drank Stroh’s beer in the 16 pounder cans. The deal was, especially if he was working on a home improvement project or simply watching ABC’s Wide World of Sports, I would run down to the refridgerator and get him one under the stipulation that I could have a “sip” for doing such a good deed.
If it was summer time and hot out, forget about it. My one wee “sip” would be a full on shot gun chug. A lot of times that beer was half empty by the time I got it to him.
That was 35 years ago at least. Who would have thunk that would be the contributing factor to my alcoholic drinky ways now.
Also, for family holiday meals I was always allowed a little glass of wine with dinner. Plus my two grandmas were fond of whiskey sours, I always got the cherry.
Come to think of it, Grandpa liked martinis and I always got the olive.
MMmmmmmm gin soaked olives………
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My first drinking experience… age 15. My friends and I all stole what we could from home and met out in the trees. Started with some sloe gin… then some beer…. a little warm champayne…I brought the cognac.
(uff dah)
I also chewed some tobacco (the wintergreen flavored.)
I still can’t eat wintergreen lifesavers.
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13 years old, Canadian Mist
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Dad probably gave me my first swig of Stegmeier around 7 ot 8. He probably would have gotten into hot water with Mom if I was any younger.
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I remember my first cocktail, I was 12 and snuck some whiskey from my dads bar and a friend and I went out to the barn and mixed it with a soda. I havnt looked back since.
As far as 1st beer, I could only guess at about 9, didnt much care for it at first, but that soon changed.
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My first REAL taste of beer came a few months after I turned 18. It was Spring 1981 and I went to a bar called “Lighthouse Limited” in the Clifton section of Cincinnati (just north of the University of Cincinnati). This place was basically a disco but Thursday nights were all Rock-n-Roll.
The beer of choice was Drewry’s (on-tap). I was known as rather straight-laced so some of the ‘regulars’ from my high school senior class were looking at me like I was some sort of Narc. I had glass #1 and quickly asked for glass #2. Instead of suspicion, the ‘regulars’ were now all looking at me in barely suppressed amusement, waiting for the alcohol to kick in.
And even though this was rock-n-roll night, they were flashing the strobes and the neon lights and the big vertical lights in the wall. Pretty soon I was mesmerized (and not just by the lights). 20 guys busted out laughing as they watched “Mr. Toft” get fucked-up for the first time in his life.
I went back the next Thursday night and really did it up right. I don’t know how many beers I had but I do remember trying to ‘dance’ to “Gimme Three Steps” by Lynyrd Skynyrd. By the next evening, I was wearing a cast on my right leg & ankle. My old man just loved that – especially the medical bills.
Two weeks later i was down there again, dancing to “Gimme 3 Steps”, cast and all.
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First tastes of alcohol… that would be on vacation in St. John. My parents get a big villa every few years on St. John and take the whole family on a getaway. I guess I would have been 15 or so. Anyway, all my older siblings and their respective fiances had decided to test my parents’ S. Baptist intolerance to the devil’s drink and snagged a bottle of Cruzan rum at the grocery store to make Pina Colada’s. That night we were all in the hottub and I was putting them away. I don’t think I ventured to beer until I was 17 or so… and now here it is 11 years later and I can’t remember a goddamned thing since. Somewhere between then and now I managed to get a degree in Economics from Baylor, a job in finance, and the uncanny ability to understand Vietnamese (thanks to the owners of Ward’s Liquor store).
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I was in 10th grade, skipped school with a new friend that I didn’t know very well… we were walking to her house and she asked if I wanted to get drunk. Not wanting to be a lame-o loser, i said “sure” all nonchalant-like. So, she reaches behind a nearby bush and produces a half empty bottle of jack daniels that had been sitting out in the florida heat all morning and handed it to me.
I took off the cap and took a way-too-big swig of it. It was one of the most painful experiences of my life. Like i had just swallowed a thousand fire ants dipped in habanero sauce.
I still can’t drink jack daniels.
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I was all punk-rock and sh*t, and was straight-edge until I was 26. I have since more than made up for lost time….
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Ah, Miller HighLife while ridiculously underage. The pony bottles were easy to sneak into places, like the movies. Those were the days. I think me and Joe T. must have had way more than our share.
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I’d sneak a sip of Dad’s Pearl Light on occasion when I was a kid. First time I really drank, however, was as a sophomore in high school. I found some Canadian Mist hidden in a kitchen cabinet and proceeded to get hammered while my parents were out. Guess it didn’t cross my mind that they’d actually be coming back home. It did NOT end well for me that day.
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I’m saving myself. Gotta save something.
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miller high life ponies. uncle worked for miller and my cousin snagged a flat of them – we were all of 14 or 15.
tasted good then. tastes better now.
peace:
b
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First time was in 10th grade also when we got an older guy to buy a 12-pack of Wiedemann’s at the local Dairy Mart. The shit was rank but we thought it was champagne. My friend Joe then proceeds to pop the top off of a can while standing outside the car and starts drinking in plain view of everyone, trying to be Joe Cool. The older guy was quickly regretting his decision and we were all deemed dumbshits, which we were.
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Jeff, remember the time I drank a 12 pack in one hour? Don’t ever bet me over what/how much I can guzzle. However, by beer # 11/12, I felt like I was ready to give birth. The ‘ol kidneys just weren’t working up to full capacity.
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My mom worked on the belief that the fastest way to get kids to do something was to tell them they can’t, so with that philosophy in mind I was always allowed to drink. Now, I wasn’t allowed to just grab a few beers and head out to T-ball practice, but on special occasions (when wine was served with dinner) I was always allowed to have some. As I got older the restrictions were fewer and fewer, so by the time high school rolled around I had free access to whatever I wanted provided I paid for it and didn’t make a jackass of myself. As a consequence I never went through that phase where drinking was a big deal. For me it was something I had always done and held no mystique.
I can, however, acutely remember the first time I got drunk. It was at a house warming party for one of my mom’s co-workers. I was about 10 and there was a large punch bowl that I visited more than I should have. Before long someone noticed my condition and I was cut off. The rest of the night is a bit of a blur, but the hangover the next day was crippling and came with a migraine-like headache that lasted four days.
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Was just thinking that we probably didn’t actually think that Wiedemann’s was like champagne because it wasn’t too much longer that the three of us graduated to guzzling Malt Duck. Anyone remember this stuff from the late 70′s? Grape and apple flavored beer. We were quite the tough crowd.
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My parents allowed me to drink restricted amounts of beer and wine at home, with meals, from age 11 or 12. Had no trouble being served in select pubs from 14. Yeah, I grew up in Europe – not a country founded by religious zealots
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My first experience with alcohol I was 12. We stole a bottle of McCormick Vodka from my friend Cathy’s parents. I proceeded to drink 1/2 the bottle straight in about a half hour. 2 hours later I was face down on the living room carpet projectile vomiting all over the carpet. Looking back on that, I am lucky I didn’t choke to death because no one was paying any attention to me. They were all too bust making out!
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I was always allowed to drink beer or wine at my house so drinking wasn’t a big deal.
My mother was a full blown hippie who’s friends were always tripped out on acid so I pretty much did what I wanted.
When I finally got drunk for the first time it was with my friends down at the river.
There were two boys my age who’s parent’s owned the general store up the road from my house.
One night they loaded up the back of their go-cart and we followed them to the river to drink .
Thankfully they had the sense to steal Budweiser and not Blue Pabst or something god awful like that.
Oddly enough, none of us got so drunk we puked or anything.
We just went skinny dipping and ran around naked, yelling and stupid stuff like that. Someone got a blood sucker on his nut sack and we laughed pretty hard about that, but that was the only mishap.
I’d tell you about my first drunken experience with hard liquor (gin) but I’ll save that story for another day…
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We could usually get a sip off dad’s beer if we asked, but the first time for full on debauchery – I was 11. We had lifted some vodka from one kid’s dad’s liquor cabinet. There were four of us and we just passed the bottle around. Woke up feeling fuzzy, but not too hung over the next day. Good times.
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Jeff, you forgot to mention that when the pic was taken it was cold out. Very cold.
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I think we were about twelve. We waited for my friend Greta’s parents to go to bed and sneaked down to the basement “rumpus room” (full body clinch anyone?) where we had had our collective “eye” on a tasty bottle of Crème De Mint for several months. Oh yes, we drank it , and we not only got buzzed, but also got sick. This episode was followed up a couple years later with a similar Boon’s Farm Strawberry Hill incident. It’s been down hill ever since people…
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oh, sorry Boone’s, not Boon’s….
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Having euro elders, alcohol was no big deal, I don’t know how old I was when I had my first drink, but it was the single digits. Made for humerous drinking age years observing college buds whos lips never touched alcohol.
My first beer was Black Horse Ale. It was my grampas preference, so it was pretty well everywhere I ended up, except my uncle who liked the piss water known as Molson Golden. Anybody who bags on Labatts 50 has never tasted Golden. Homemade wine makes the list for first non-beer alcohol.
My coffee habit was born when I was in grade 6.
My first true beer binge occured during an open bar wedding my family attended. My mum was designated driver. Since it was free I decided I was going to try every beer they had. Except molsen golden. I forget what I reached as the waitress girl kept removing the empties… Apparently I packed away a lot of brews. The only thing I remember is that Ice Beers have a terrible aftertaste, and the pissing like a race horse. No morning hangover either. Must have been that early childhood alcohol conditioning. =-)
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It was the night of my 13th birthday. After a kick ass roller skating party I had a few friends stay the night to play the original Nintendo and watch Skinamax after my folks hit the sack. We had already seen the boobie flick so we decided to roam the subdivision. Six of us swiped a total of 18 beers from garage refrigerators and back patios. We took a few here and a few there. We had good beer and bad. We ended up doing this every once in while until we started going to High School Parties when we were 15. It ended up being a good learning experience and refined my pallet to be the go to guy for advice for new drinkers. Good times!
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About 4 or 5, I drank my dad’s vodka and OJ when he got up to use the potty. When he came back, the drink was gone and I was out like a light. I don’t think he ever let my mom know what happened. I never saw my dad drink beer, only scotch (Johnny Walker Red or Black). Guess thats why I like single malt scotch (Glenfiddich 15 or better please). Although, I have been known to sample a little Evan Williams, JW Dant or Balvenie. Not all at once mind you. Ooopps, time to put on my kilt and get a little bit Irish. No peeking ladies!!!
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I was in seventh grade, and had my first taste of alcohol at a a friend’s parents’ New Years Eve Party. It was ouzo, and it was disgusting. But, I found the effects quite interesting.
I soon became one of those teens they used to make afterschool specials about. I used to bring 16 oz bottles of Country Time lemonade to school, mixed with either vodka or rum from my parents’ liquor cabinet. I still can’t believe I never got caught.
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I was 14, freshman in high school, I was a sorority pledge and we were headed to a party to celebrate the beginning of HellWeek. The seniors kidnapped us from our houses and took us. They girl I rode with bought 2 bottles of Boones Farm Strawberry Hill. Good god. I remember riding with a gaggle of drunk pledges up to another house where a fraternity was having their party. Our ride left us, we had to walk back to party # 1 with no shoes on the next morning…thankfully someone came and picked us up without telling our parents.
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Lew-perhaps I’m showing my public school ignorance (probably a lot more than I know, many times a day) but you had sororities/fratenities in HS? Interesting…I never knew!
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I don’t remember this happening, but apparently when my twin sister and I were about 3 years old, our mom left a jumbo cup of vodka/oj on the table when the doorbell rang… she must have already been a little toasty because it was a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses and she invited them inside to sit and discuss their religion. The story is, Brooke and I quickly finished off her screwdriver, came into the livingroom where they were seated and proceeded to snatch and rip apart their Watchtower magazines and then growled at them until they left.
Funny, that’s the same way I get them to go away now, too!
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i’m not sure how old i was when i had my first taste of alcohol, but i do know i was 16 the first time i ever got shit face drunk. i was at my best friend’s going away to boot camp party and he introduced me to B 52 shots. good stuff!
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Growing up with Italian grandparents, like everyone else here with European relatives, alcohol was something we were always allowed. I remember my grandmother dipping french bread in red wine and giving it to us as small children,
My first full-on drunk was at the ripe old age of 3. My parents (who were 23 and 24 at the time) had a party and I thought it was a good idea to walk around and finish any drink that had been inadvertently set down within my grasp. Evidently my mother didn’t realize what I had done and once I started puking wanted to take me to emergency. My father, being the wise old sage that he was, smelled alcohol in said puke and put me to bed. The next drunk came much the same way, but on 7and7s. Oh, the pain. I think I was 4. To this day, the SMELL of that particular cocktail makes me ill.
Happy Tuesday, Surfers!
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First beers were at a party in 7th grade, thrown by the neighborhood 9th grader. He had swiped a couple of cases from somebody’s open garage on his morning paper route. PBR’s if I remember correctly, not even chilled at the party. Later on, as we found a more reliable purchaser, my friends older cousin, we went through many a case of Miller High Life pony’s.
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by the way, LOVE the week-in-review email!
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I must have been 6 or 7 – my Grandparents were also European so they let us have sips of drinks. Grandpa made us weak mint juleps but accidently gave me my dad’s instead of the low alcohol one… My mom was just livid.
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@Alex:
Oh, I know Molsen Golden. I’ll go you one worse: Old Vienna.
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I was reading the Rocky stories and the Chi-Chi’s incident reminded me of one of my youthful outings. We went to some kind of upscale Mexican bar and grill in an upscale town populated mostly by the Hollywood skier crowd. In the center of the bar there was a huge bowl of salsa surrounded by chips. One of the guys put a firecracker in it. The resulting explosion covered all of the waiters. We were laughing way too hard to escape. The cops were called and when they arrived, they pretty much saw what we saw. Pissed off salsa covered douche bags. They were laughing too hard to haul us off and made excuses for us like “I’m sure they are really sorry”. Now we would be accused of being some kind of terrorists, but those were some good times.
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1944 – when I was 3. My uncle the former Chas. policeman gave me several sips of beer while he played cards with friends. I asked for more and more and more – and I have loved it ever since.
First got drunk in college, drinking beer and then some guy’s cheap wine at the Barn on McCorkle Ave. I barfed all over a baby blue cadillac convertible.
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My 15th Birthday my straight off the rack Military pilot stepfather (I think they based the great Santini on this guy!) a 45 year old batchelor married for just a month! picked me up from school & not quite knowing what the hell to do with a 15 year old on his birthday took me to the Officers Mess & got me totally hammered on draught Holsten pils! I redecorated the hall carpet when we finally got home & my mom didn’t talk to him for a month! Good Times:)
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tyrosine: you are forgetting red cap ale:) Stubbies rule!
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I was 15 when I had my first beer. We told my friends mom we were going to “wash” our hair with it. We sat on the tub drinking them down and then ran our hair under the water. A year later her mom was making us daiquiries when I spent the night and buying us cigarettes.
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Drinking was no big issue when i was a kid. A beer at 10 on the porch with Dad on a hot night happened every now and then. First real drunk was around 13 when I played some football with my older brother and his friends who were all just out of high school.
He drove my ass home where I filled up the kitchen sink with puke. Dad made him clean it up.
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Okay…hope y’all are sitting down for this one…
I am 43 years old and have NOT tasted alcohol to this day. No, I am not a Mormon or anything.
I LOOK like I am only about 30 (maybe) and I am thinking there is some corollation here???
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Stephanie: Scientific experiment on behalf of the: WSVR: pound back a forty pounder tonight look in the mirror in the morning & see if you look 43!
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@Pagan: Truth be told I like Red Cap although I haven’t had any since Molson bought a controlling interest in Brick Brewing Co. My all time favourite local (Ontario) beer is Creemore (www.creemoresprings.com/).
I wrote a brief guide to Ontario beer for Jeff about a year ago, which he posted to the site (I was credited as “North of the Border Chris”). If you can find it you will see I have nothing but contempt for most Molson beer, but have a special hatred for Golden and OV.
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Here’s a contrary data point: I’m 50 and I look 35. The difference is that I’ve been drinking since the mid-1970s, and in fact don’t remember my first Adult Beverage. I think there is a correlation here. I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to go get myself another Highland Park. TTFN.
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tyro: Used to leave work & hit airport road all the way to creemore & pick up a case on the way to blue Mountain! then the bad guys bought them out & introduced lager & other abnormalities! that was O.K. until they messed with the classic Creemore bottle! that was just wrong!
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So drinking is directly tied in to how old you look?
I drink A LOT and you’ve all seen a picture of me.
I don’t think I look like an old goat or anything so I’ll keep drinking.
Why look young if you’re not having any damn fun?
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Like quite a few here, dear old dad often allowed me to have a sip of his beer when I was a kid. I was also allowed a small glass of wine or sherry for special family occasions. Perhaps why I don’t go out and get shitfaced with appalling regularity. That and my blinkered digestive tract won’t have it.
Unfortunately I don’t really recall the first real drunken experience. It could be this one teenage party I was at populated by punk and goth kids (long before the days of “emo”). I remember I was buzzed enough not to feel it too much when a fat Robert Smith lookalike fell on me. Ugh. I don’t really miss the eighties.
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Pagan: In 94 I was managing a micro brewery in London. Creemore had just upgraded their bottling line and I almost had our owners convinced to buy their old one. The drawback was it was designed to work with Creemore’s unique bottles, which the owners weren’t too keen on.
Try not to feel too bad about the Molson’s buyout. Without it Creemore would have gone under. In the early 90’s there were almost 40 micros in Southern Ontario. I believe the only ones left are the ones that formed partnerships with larger breweries.
FYI: They changed to the standard long neck as a condition of selling through Brewers Retail. If a brewery uses non-standard packaging it costs more.
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Supposedly, when I was about 3, I drank my dad’s Jack and Coke when he turned his back, and passed out for hours.
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I think my first drink was something called “malt duck”. Is that a real memory or a real drink? I have no idea. I’ve been drunk for about 20 years now, almost without interruption.
When I lived outside of Waco, TX in a small town called “Axtell” the man at the feed store would sell us beer. He’d always put it in an empty feed bag and he’d say, “If anyone catches you with this you tell them that a black guy in Bellmead bought it for you.” He always wanted to pin it on an imaginary black guy. I don’t know why it had to be such an elaborate story. There was NOBODY around. I think the population of that town was about five, and none of them were black.
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Lips that touch liquor shall never touch mine. Helloooo Stephanie! wink wink.
Just kidding.
No special story to tell but my dad’s old saying is, “Ain’t nothing wrong with a cold beer on a hot day”, hence his retirement to Florida.
Probably a big factor for me living in San Antonio. If it isn’t a hundred degrees outside, I turn on the heater and grab a beer anyway.
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11; it was a 16oz Miller. I chugged it in my cousins basement. Good times!
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Jason I have family in West.
First taste who knows. First drunk my brother was coming back from “Nam. My cousins and I were sleeping out and got puking drunk on home made brandy. I was 11. No one said a word about it and so it continued for another 40 years.
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West is a wonderful little town. I go there for Kolaches and Nemechek Brothers Sausage. We got drunk with Willie Nelson once at Wolf’s bar.
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Cool my Aunt work at Heitmillers.(sp) Had all the ATF guy’s during Koresh’s little picnic eating there and telling stories.
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I couldn’t get home during the Koresh debacle. They had the road closed off. I have pictures of a tank turning around in the front yard. They played music all night long, which kept me awake.
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When I was a toddler my parents owned a bar. I used to go there in the afternoons and play on the piano & drums that were setup for the band. I seem to remember my dad letting me drink the foam off the top of his beer around age 3! Good times!
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Oh I LOVED a cold Bud Light as a child. My dad would let me have a sip from his newly opened can when I would run and get it for him. Seems like this was not uncommon in the 60′s and 70′s from the comments. My mother, a nurse, didn’t approve of course especially after I threw up one night and I heard her yell to my dad in the other room “Tim her puke smells like beer!”. I guess dad lost track of my “sips” and he was watching an especially good baseball game. Gotta love dads for their laid back style.
And when my husband and I were in our last two years of high school (late eighties) his parents would let him host parties in his basement, beer permitted, as long as everyone spent the night (I slept upstairs in his sister’s room). Occasionally he’d even get a keg. And we could smoke (cigarettes) freely as both his parents were smokers. Simply amazing. It was like 1952 over there, EVERYONE smoked. And they were regular middle class people. Can you imagine that happening now?
I never really have been a big drinker over the years so I guess no harm done. Will we be letting our teenagers host keg parties in our basement? HELL no.
And after all that when my husband’s dad found a tiny bit of weed stashed in the basement (fast forward to our college days) he bitched him out about his top secret military status (I guess all military people have some sort of “status” for secrets) being taken away if “they” ever found out about pot being in his home. My husband thought that was funny and still does.
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Shelley in St. Louis-what was the name and location of the bar your family owned in St.. Louis? Just curious….
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Jason-what does WACO stand for? “‘W’e ‘A’in’t ‘C’ommin ‘O’ut” hahahahhahaha
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