Personal Narrative: Shot Glasses

A bond became an obsession
Among the nation “shot glasses” first derived from New York City in 1940 but in my household they became a phenomenon in 2008. In New York City they were first used as small glasses with thick walls filled with BBs and lead shots at the dinner table; as meat often still had shards from the bullets. However, as liquor became more popular throughout the nation, they converted into a device of alcohol consumption. Be it a classy jigger, a tacky collection in a home bar, or a cheap collectible in a college dorm room, where alcohol goes, shot glasses follow.
Throughout my childhood years, shot glasses were the complete opposite as what they are deemed as today. Shot glasses represented a memory. I was never close to
My collection began to remind me of individual people and places; pieces of my past. The glasses help me distinctly remember the worthy nights, and adventures, keeping me homebound and aware of my achievements. However, as I grew out of middle school and into high school; my mother and I began to end our road trips for I was too busy and she wanted to return to work. However, the summer leading into freshman year of high school I met my former best friend who introduced me to all the wonders of drinking. For what was once used as decoration and to symbolize memories, was now used to get drunk, not remember my nights, and to act as someone who I was not. My emotions and attitudes began to morph while participating in these events; I didn’t worry about creating a memory anymore but which shot glass would look better with alcohol in it. I overlooked why I initially collected them and what they meant to me, but instead how I could use them to fit
I completely forgot who I was. After that summer, I never wanted to even seen my shot glass collection. I did not want to think about the memories I made, who I made them with, and how I ruined my perception of something I once treasured. Since that summer I learned that people are not subject to asking questions first, but they are to judge first. My former friends judged me; they thought that since I had a shot glass collection that I was someone who drank consistently, knew my limit, and knew my alcohol. That was far from true. I stopped collecting shot glasses for about three years after that unforgettable summer. However, I started collecting again in college once I realized that mistakes are not mistakes unless you make them such. I had not made mistakes that summer but rather learned from my experiences and created unimaginable nights with some people that others will never get the chance to