 My second time drunk was at a fair when I was 15. I was hanging out with this
girl and she brought this bottle of something, don't remember exactly what, but
this was my turn to stupidly want to impress her and the others we were hanging out with. I know, I know. Stupid. But my childhood wasn't
the most ideal and I didn't have many friends, so being around so many kids my
age, was enough to make me stupid for a day and my second lesson ended with me
so drunk that I blacked out and can only remember snippets of the rest of the
night. Talking to people I hated and calling them my friends. Telling them how
much I liked them, even though I really hated them. According to my brother,
I had a hell of a lot to say that night. Good thing I don't remember any more
of it cause I don't want to think about what I might have said.
That lovely night ended with ... well my final memory of that night was puking
in the bushes outside a friend's house where they were throwing a party. Lovely.
My third attempt of trying to be the biggest idiot in the world came when I was
17. This was the year I'd worked at Cafe Sol and it was the manager's birthday
and we all went to this the club next door ... no not Dean's club. He would have rung
my neck if he'd seen me being so stupid. I'd definitely learned from my earlier
experiences. I didn't drink because of a dare or to impress. No this time it
was because I didn't pay any attention to that little alarm. I ignored it and
thought I was fine. What can I say? Stupidity is intoxicating. For some it's
more dangerous than alcohol.
Needless to say my night did not end on a classy note. Drunk and partying till
I fell into a heap on top of the stage with the rest of my coworkers. Then I
got dumber. I let those people drive me home. I got there safely, but there's nothing more terrifying then knowing you're not at your best and that
the person behind the wheel is definitely not at theirs. That's a lesson never
forgotten.
My fourth time drunk was more about depression than anything else. I'd just
moved to NY. I was really hating myself and the life that I was suddenly living
and lesson four was one I need to learn. No drinking to make things better, no drinking
to feel like you belong. And certainly no drinking to forget that it was your
decisions that put you in the life you're now living. Yes, quite like my foolish decision to quit school lead to my ending up in Hell,
it was my foolish decision to leave the flourishing life that I was leading to
move to NY and be with a mother who I barely knew.
But that depressing story is best left for another time. Lesson four ended up
with my being sleepy drunk and this bitch thinking it would be funny to put powder
on my face so everyone could have a laugh. Suffice it to say I was not happy.
And she is now an enemy for life.
The fifth and final lesson in drunken stupidity for me was simply this. Don't eat greasy pizza then go out and mix drinks. That's all. No big life changing lesson, no moral, no sad reasoning. Just
a fact. If you don't want to upchuck, don't give your stomach reason to.
And those are my adventures in drinking. Not pretty in the slightest and definitely
not something that would entice me to have anymore than a friendly association
with alcohol. Not that it even matters, since I couldn't become addicted to alcohol
even if I wanted to. An image of my father would pop up the instant I began to
depend on it. And following in his footsteps is something that I could never
do.
I couldn't do drugs either for that matter. No I don't have another parent that is all drugged out and scarred me for life. My mother doesn't lock herself in
the bathroom and shoot up. But I do have a cousin who smokes weed and I gotta
say, if there is ever a need for another series of 'Scared Straight' videos she's
the ideal star for the project. But I don't have much of an association with
her. Especially since I can't stand her. I'd as much shoot her as I would follow
her to drugs. Or shoot myself because if I ever became like her I'd want to be
dead.
Maybe that's why I have the addictions that I do and why I love them. Because
the other options out there are too terrifying to even contemplate. Be like my
father or my cousin? HELL no. One is definitely the worry of becoming that which
I hate. My father. And the other is a fear of becoming that which I greatly fear. Stupid.
If I didn't have my television and my reading and the Internet and my writing,
god only knows where I'd end up. It's like those people out there, who believe
that getting kids involved in activities and clubs will keep them from drugs and
drinking. Works for some. Others are just headed down that path regardless of
how much they have in their lives.
But everyone's got to have their vices. No one's so perfect that they don't
have some addiction or another. At least with me mine are fun.
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