29 and sneaking sips

Ever feel like you take two steps forward and one step back? Look folks, at 29 years old, I have made more than enough mistakes for my life time. Every time I make a large life bumble, I think to myself, "Good learning experience, never do that again."
Turns out is easy to say, harder to live by.
I lived in a nice little house I called my own. I then moved to Utah in order to take a job, perhaps be a little closer to family, and get out of a town I was not too fond of. My wife and I moved into a little apartment on a very busy street, with many strange people walking by at all hours of the day. Oh yeah, right on front of a bus stop, like I said, creepy crusty people slithering by at all hours of the day.
Our land lady was a victim of the 60's Kool Aid Acid Tests, with some sort of personality disorder- in which she did not hear people when they talked- not due to hearing, but due to stubborness.

My wife and I had our struggles in what they call the 9th and 9th area here in Salt Lake City.
Well, we decided to move up to the school where my wife goes to college in order to get away from the Acid Lady known as Blakely, as well as get a little peace and quiet. We are now tucked right next to the foothills of Salt Lake, in a beautiful area literally a few hundred feet from great hiking and biking trails.

Only drawback, there's a no booze rule on campus, and therefore no booze allowed in our apartment. I'm freaking 29 dude! I'm not allowed to have a beer at night with my chips and salsa? I do not usually like to go on and on about the invasiveness of the Utah alcohol laws. If you are not aware of them just know they are lame and extremely inconvenient for socially responsible drinkers. If you are wino, you might as well just move, because you are either going to be broke paying for real beer from the liquor store, or 300 pounds because you have to drink 24 cans of Bud to catch a buzz.

In any case, as we speak, I am having flash backs to when I was an 18 year old freshman at the University of Wyoming, explaining to a cop why my dorm room reeks of beer, only this time I am well of legal age.

See, everyone on campus drinks, they just have to be secretive about it. I have no doubt that 50 percent of the people who reside on this campus consume illegally in their dorm rooms. I love it up here, it is quiet, clean, well kept, it's just that if I want to have a beer, I either have to sneak it in a paper sack, or rip off my shirt, wrap my six pack in it, and walk into my building shirt less, cradling a toddler like baby of beers wrapped in my shirt. Might look a bit funny in a blizzard, but better than getting booted out of my new apartment building.

We are going to be staying until we move from Utah, and I will be enjoying my '86 Pinot Noir from the bathroom of my apartment, locked tightly inside, to insure that no one catches me enjoying a little post work day relaxation. For all you suburbanites out there enduring the post home loan debaucle and looking at a looming mortgage payment that could increase while your property decreases, take heart and pop a cold one, go walk around your front lawn and tip a lil' out for me, for you know freedom of alcohol consumption. Enjoy it, for you could be sneaking that beer into your living quarters, living in fear of the Drink Police!