What did you drink? How much did it cost? What type of establishment?
For my sins, I was maybe about seventeen, I lived in a market town in the north of England. Two pints of ale, ( seriously, hand pumped beery stuff) one packet of cigarettes and a bag of crisps ( chips to you west side of the pond people ) cost me about 52p in 1978 ( a dollar? ) My haircut for the weekend ( I was so so trendy also cost me less than a buck fifty!)
come on dudes all our yesterdays!
I had a Full Sail Pale Ale at my mom’s.
Was that a celebration or party or just a regular thing with a sunday lunch?
Every day, my mom has cheese, crackers, and one or two glasses of beer or wine. She let me have one with her for the first time about 16 months ago.
I don’t remember - it’s been too long ago. It wouldn’t have been in a bar, though; it would have come from somebody’s ice chest as folks were sitting around drinking beer in the weekend afternoons.
My first beer? - A couple cans of lagers in the forest a cold night, with my best friend. Well planned party. It was in the eighties, but I remember it very well. I enjoyed it. And the cigarettes worked great with beer. As a matter of fact, it was a happy night. When we eventually got to bed, I realized that we found a cure for boredom.
secretly took a can of bud from my parents fridge at approx age 14. Budweiser probably.
Coors. With pizza. I was 17, I think. I didn’t develop a beer palate until I started brewing my own.
Michelob.
In a bar.
The curvy bottle.
I waited until I was legal which was 18 then.
On my birthday.
I can still taste it.
In my mind.
I never had a drink until I was in college*. I was 17, freshman year in the dorms, dorm kegger with kegs bought by the RA’s. Yes, those were the days. It was probably Bud or Coors.
*I have since made up for it.
Keg beer at a college party. Didn’t enjoy it, didn’t finish it. I didn’t begin to enjoy beer until I started drinking halfway decent beer on my own time.
I drank my father’s glass of Schaefer at a restaurant in Orlando when I was 9. He had turned around to talk to friends at the next table and I just reached over and downed it. I didn’t start drinking the stuff regularly until I was 15 or so. It’s been a love affair ever since. 
Excluding a few small sips that I would take from my friends beer if my throat was dry from talking and smoking at parties…my first beer was a Blue Moon. I was probably 26 or 27, up until then I REALLY didn’t like the taste of beer.
Hasn’t happened yet, & I’m 47 this month.
When I was a young teenager, my Dad asked me to promise him that I would have my first beer with him. I knew it was kind of intended to control when I would start drinking, but I adored my Dad to the point of idolizing him, and I understood, in a diffuse, hazy way, that this would also be a rite of passage of sorts, a thing that men share among themselves.
I was barely 16. We we returning from our annual Christmas vacation in Florida, and had been stranded at the Fort-Lauderdale airport all day, due to a complete clusterf$%k on the part of Delta airlines. It had been a long, tiring, frustrating day of delays, line-ups, waiting, gate changes, etc. Late in the evening, we went looking for dinner. The only thing open (this was before food courts) was the airport bar. Before going in, my dad said to me: “Today, if anyone asks, you’re 18”. At the time, I thought it was just so we could be seated, since minors were not admitted. When the waitress came to take our drink order, he ordered a miller for himself, and a miller lite for me. I looked at him with surprise, but knew better than to say anything. He nodded slightly, as if to say: “yeah, you heard me…”
Dad had said he approved of the way I handled the frustrations that day. When we toasted each other, it felt like, like I had passed a test, like I was admitted to a select group of important people. It tasted terrible. It tasted wonderful. It was like receiving communion at the altar of adult manliness. I was glad I had resisted the temptations the few times I had thought of going behind his back. My heart was bursting with emotion I was trying not to show. I was so proud, and grateful. I loved my Dad then more than I think I had ever loved him before. But I also had a feeling that I would now be called upon to make decisions with a far heavier cast, and to answer to a different, more demanding, set of expectations and responsibilities for my behaviour. I hoped I was up to it.
It turned out to be our last vacation together as a family. My Dad had a series of debilitating strokes shortly before we were scheduled to leave on the next one. Although he would live for another nine years, those strokes took away most of his personality and memories, and with them, his wisdom, and his character. To this day, the memory of my first beer with my Dad is one of ones I treasure most about him
I was about 15, I think, maybe 16. I was in D.C. with my family, a big meetup on my Stepmom’s side. One of my uncles said who wants a beer, and a bunch of people spoke up, including me. I was only joking, as I knew my parents would not let me drink beer. But, surprise surprise, my uncle brought a round out to us cousins sitting on the back porch. My parents let it slide, and later told me that it was a special occasion, and I shouldn’t assume I was just going to just start drinking all the time.
ETA: It was a Budweiser, I think. I remember it really hit the spot in the hot summer afternoon with a bowl of pretzels.
I was at my cousin’s for a family party one summer when I was about 13 or 14. They had cans of beer in a cooler all day in the garage. The party was winding down at night, so I snuck into the garage, snagged a beer, cracked it open, and was disgusted by the taste. I think it was a Bud Light.
I kept drinking it though, because I was curious about the buzz. I couldn’t finish the beer because it wasn’t easy going down, and my parents started calling for me. So my mission failed. No buzz.
Never touched the stuff again until Junior year, at HS parties and such. I also had my mom buy me a six-pack of Bud Ice when I was 19 for me and my friend to enjoy.
Now that I’ve had much more experience with beer, I know why I was disgusted by my first sip. It was Bud Light. I’m still disgusted by that swill.
I think I had my first beer when I was about 11 at a friend’s house. Mixed with 7-up. Yummy 
It was a bottle of Molson Canadian, at my house, in honor of my 18th birthday.
It did not mix well with a Dairy Queen ice cream cake and assorted other junk food.
Every day when my day got home from work I’d fetch him an Old Milwaukee from the fridge and a little glass for myself. He’d give me maybe 2-3 ounces of his beer. This started when I was about 6. I don’t think I had my first full beer until highschool and was maybe 15 or 16.