The Best Of Times…And The Worst

There are two things you need to know about me; one, I don’t drink very often, and two, if I’ve done something once and didn’t like the experience, I never try to do it again. So, clearly, there’s a story as to why I’m like that. And I’m going to tell you it.

I’ve mentioned it on here multiple times before, but I’ll say it again: I didn’t do much living as a teenager. Hell, I barely do any, now—but that’s besides the point. I’ve only ever smoked weed a handful of times, I only drank at family gatherings and on holidays—and even that was mostly in moderation. I never snuck out of the house, never went to high school parties. Generally, had a pretty boring high school experience.

So, when I graduated and went off to college, I wanted to change that a bit. I wanted to live it up. And even though I didn’t go crazy, I did go out every now and then.

But this story isn’t about college. It’s about the summer after my freshman year, while I was back home.

Jeanette invited me to go to her cousin, Jessie’s, high school graduation party with her, her sister, Emily, and their mom. It was the first time in a long while that their whole family was getting together, and because I spent most of my teenaged years with Jeanette, I was considered family.

I’ve actually hung out with Jessie a bunch of times prior to this party, and his younger brother, Mikey, so it wasn’t like the only people I knew were those I was showing up with. I’d been to their house once before, so I wasn’t a random person there. I wasn’t uncomfortable with where I was, or the people I was with. I planned on having a grand ol’ time.

Early on during the party, Jeanette’s uncle took the two of us, and two of her other cousins, Kayla and Sierra, to the liquor store. He let us pick out what we all wanted, so we weren’t stuck with the same stuff the parents were having. I didn’t realize how much stuff we had until we got back to the house; there ended up being a lot of alcohol.

This entire shindig was going to be a shit show, and I knew it. I just didn’t realize how my night was going to go.

We spent a lot of the night listening to music, talking, laughing, and taking shots. Most of our night was spent surrounding a little white table, and whoever came to the table. Most of the time, it was just the cousins; but every now and then, a parent or two would come by, hang out, and take a couple of shots with us. And now that I think about it, Jeanette and I didn’t leave that table much.

I didn’t realize how much I was drinking, and I didn’t care about mixing. It’s not really something I tend to focus on, or watch out for. I was just there to party, hang out with my best friend, and spend time with her cousins—all of which I caught on with so easily. They reminded me a lot of my own, except closer to my age. We were all probably within a year or two of each other.

When Mikey randomly brought out a golf cart, everyone took turns riding in the back of it. It was so funny to me, to watch people get excited over a little golf cart; I honestly didn’t understand the interest of it, until Jeanette asked me if I wanted to go on. I thought, why not?

And after everyone else took their turn, we got on.

I think that was the turning point for me. I didn’t realize how much I drank until then, with the wind hitting me, my hair flying around my face, and me and my best friend laughing at every bump we hit. That little golf cart felt like a rollercoaster.

We loved it so much, we convinced Mikey to bring us around a couple extra times.

I don’t remember much of what happened between then and when all of us kids were told to go hide in the boys’ rooms. Parents told us that somebody came over, a fight ensued, and cops were called. They wanted us out of sight, in case if the cops came further than the front yard.

We all had designated rooms, since we were sleeping over. Jeanette, Jessie, and I went into Jessie’s room, to pretend to be sleeping. Jeanette and I went in the bed, and Jessie laid on a sleeping bag, on the floor. I think I might have even fallen asleep at one point, but I’m not entirely sure, because the next thing I remembered was trying to not throw up, and failing.

I was so embarrassed, I started crying for a minute. Jeanette laughed, and retrieved her mom, who helped clean up my mess. Thankfully, most of it ended up just on the floor, and it basically looked like water, so it was an easy clean up.

That didn’t change how mortified I was.

After that, we were let out of Jessie’s room, because the cops left. Turned out that the fight was resolved before they even showed up (and by that, I mean that one of the people in the fight left the party before the cops got to the house).

When the party went on to wrap things up, I could barely go on. I was still so wrapped up in my own personal embarrassment, that I basically threw myself into Jessie’s arms and cried about how sorry I was.

That poor, poor boy, had to deal with all of me, in that moment.

It wasn’t my best moment, I’ll admit; I had no control over my body or my words. He just went on to tell me it was okay, I was okay, and that everything was fine; but I couldn’t stop saying how sorry I was.

I was not the cutest human being.

Anyway, we actually ended up going back to Jeanette’s house that night. It turned out that her mom sobered up in the hours that we partied, so she drove us back. I slept over their house that night, and stayed basically the entire day that followed. I had never experienced a hangover before then, and I hated myself that day. The world spun out of control, and the only way I didn’t feel like crap was by sleep. I don’t think I’ve ever slept more than I had that day.

Was the night before worth that day? Honestly, I don’t know. It was definitely one of the better, more fun days of my life…but I never want to experience the latter part of the night or the next day ever again.


Prompt: Have you ever had one too many drinks? Tell us about one of those times.

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