I haven’t thought about the first time I got drunk in ages! Pretty much since my ten year high school reunion when someone brought it up because they were still a little annoyed at me. Grudge much?!!!
I was 15 and attending a friend’s murder mystery sleepover. My poison of choice? Every Aussie teenage girl’s bestie – West Coast Coolers. I got smashed by skolling a six pack very quickly (such a lady) – and they hit me hard. It turns out that I’m not a dance on the tables fun drunk. If I’m tipsy, yeah sure I’m pretty fun but if I go even one drink past that I become a bit melancholy. I’m the drunk that sits looking up at the sky moodily contemplating her existence and ends up sobbing in the toilets.
My group of friends all worked at a discount warehouse place that also employed a lot of first year uni students, including one particularly dreamy gentleman whose name escapes me but we will call Dec. Everyone was a little bit in love with Dec. As he was friends with the long suffering older brother chaperoning the party, he was dragged out to be admired. Wanting a break from the drunken teenage giggling inside, he went to have a smoke and found me sitting on a trampoline sadly chatting to the moon.
Long story short, drunk Tory disobeyed the rules of the sisterhood and had a drunken kiss with the boy her friends had earmarked for themselves. I’m not sure how they were planning to divide him up among 4 teenagers – some sort of time share system perhaps? Or maybe a raffle?
I wish I could say that was my last drunken pash with an inappropriate boy. But it wasn’t. Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. What happened the first time you got drunk? Share in the comments or join the link up over at My Home Truths!