My Name Is Tom

I DON'T remember my first drink, but I'll never forget my first drunk. It was in Vancouver, B. C., in the early 1930s, and I was a very new and inexperienced ship's radio operator, back in my home port after a long voyage. The Third Mate had suggested that I might like to go on a double date with him that evening, and I was flattered that a man of his experience would condescend to put up with the company of a green kid like me.