“Want some?” Those were the first words Steve spoke to me while extending a heaping spoonful of cocaine as I stood flipping through the stack of albums next to the turntable. In case you hadn’t guessed, it was the 80s and we were at a mutual friend’s Fourth of July party. While I declined the cocaine, I did need someone who was drinking age to drive to the nearby liquor store and buy me wine. Steve obliged.
