(Sometime back in ’09- I think.)
There really should be a PSA about the humiliation that follows suit with drinking.
Drinking had never really been a big deal growing up, my sister and I had champagne on all the big holidays and special events, my parents always let me taste or share a glass of whatever they were having, and the family friends kids and I would sneak a few beers every now and then at big parties to be rebels.
So, when I went to my first “party” (you know, the kind where every kid brings a handle of booze they snuck from their parents alcohol cabinet- or in some cases, a water bottle filled with whatever they could get their hands on, ehem, Shashasha (cue inside joke)
I was maybe 16 at the time? I’m not quite sure if this was early on or late in the game, but I thought I was hot stuff back then. We all got together at our friend James’ house, and sat in the backyard “mixing” our drinks (this meant that we were way TOO cool to admit we hated the taste of alcohol, so we tried to make it taste okay with whatever juice we could find) There were some interesting attempts at beer pong, or you know BP (cause that’s how the cool kids reference it) and we just sat around talking, dancing, and drinking quicker than we understood.
So, an hour into the party, I’ve done maybe five shots at this point, had a beer, and a couple mixed drinks; I didn’t know it, but I was PLASTERED. My tolerance at the time was negative to whatever a tolerance was, and I was Asian glowing* somewhere between a strawberry and a pale person getting a sunburn.
People started throwing up, there was some broken furniture involved, and someone passed out next to the pool. And I think someone tried to bring fireworks, and that was just a whole other mess.
My friend and I got picked up by her mom, and we tried to act sober, and “coyly” rolled down the windows to let the smell of Jack and Coke fly out the back of the car. We are bad actors, we will leave it at that, and there is no profession there for either one of us.
As the story goes, I woke up the next day, dizzy, and stumbling into a cold shower. I don’t think I drank for a long while after that; but college has taught me to the social graces of public drinking, and the stories get much better now. Including dancing in public fountains at two in the morning.
But nothing compares to the first time you just got completely wasted. Can you even remember yours?
Much Love, Miranda
*An Asian glow is that redness that an Asian person gets even after TASTING alcohol, if you have an Asian friend you understand; and if you don’t, make friends with one, and then get them drunk. You’ll understand.