The Metamorphosis of a Firefly

As a junior in high school, I started waiting tables and saving for college. After hours of having free food and drinks, I would pour some rum into coke, never measuring. It would transform me from a timid, ashamed, down-beaten girl, to a firefly. I could dance with the town drunk whom I believed I loved. The bartender had to make a frothy, pink sweet-tasting drink for me to learn to like cocktails. At college, I didn't drink except for weekends at the restaurant.