Hic!
Reading a story in
In high school, I wasn’t really a party girl. I’ve always been introverted, so even when I went out with friends, that just wasn’t my thing. I didn’t have a drink until I was 21, not really seeing the point. I still don’t drink, as a rule – maybe once a year, tops. Maybe not even that. I’ve got nothing against it, it’s just not my thing.
One evening, when I was 21, I was sitting in my dorm room and suddenly, out of the blue, I thought, “eh, what the hell.” So I called some friends and said, “you know, I think I want to go have a drink.” Seeing the possibilities, they all, to a person, said, “Wait, really? Are you serious? OH MY GOD I’LL BE RIGHT THERE!”
So they took me out to a bar, and because I had no experience with liquor, they were able to ply me with pretty strong drinks and tell me they were really very low-alcohol. I really don’t like the taste of booze, so I didn’t get as blitzed as I could have. Man, that Long Island Iced Tea tasted like battery acid! To this day, I go for the girly drinks on those rare occasions when I do have a bit.
Turns out I’m a happy, huggy, peppy drunk! I love everyone! And when the end of the night was rolling around, I said, “now, am I really okay?” “Suuuure,” they said. “Great! I’ll just walk on home.” And I stood up and swayed.
And that’s when they started laughing hysterically, and I knew my friends had been using me for their own twisted amusement. Eh, I can’t blame them. It was college, and it was cheap entertainment.
And that’s the story of my first drink.
Do you have any alcohol-related stories to share?
I’m a sad little man.
Company party. Open bar. It was at this ritzy frou frou resort in West Virginia so I didn’t have anyone around who actually gave a crap about me to keep an eye out.
I drank one beer first,
then a vodka and cranberry.
Then another.
Then another.
And another.
Then another beer.
Then the vodka and cranberry again.
Then a straight whiskey.
Then a screwdriver.
And another.
Then five more vodka and cranberries.
Then a whiskey.
I thought about stopping then but a coworker (a girl no less) called me a half a sissy and I had one final vodka and cranberry. This was over the span of six or seven hours mind.
Well, my bosses wife, who put her hand on my thigh by the way, started telling me about her plastic surgery, and I was trying to be nice said she looked good. She kept doing that kind of fake modest “Oh I am not.” crap and I said:
“Hell, I’d bang you.”
Now in my head I meant that in the sense that were we both unwed. Also did I mention my boss was sitting next to her at the time? They also both laughed, heartily. All three of us were blitzed out of our minds. I did however apologize to both of them the next day for any offense as none had been meant.
The moral of the story? That little voice in your head? The one that tells you when you should stop? Yeah, you should always listen to it. The second moral? When I’m drunk all it takes is a pair of boobs to convince me to get even more drunk.
I’m a sad little man.
Company party. Open bar. It was at this ritzy frou frou resort in West Virginia so I didn’t have anyone around who actually gave a crap about me to keep an eye out.
I drank one beer first,
then a vodka and cranberry.
Then another.
Then another.
And another.
Then another beer.
Then the vodka and cranberry again.
Then a straight whiskey.
Then a screwdriver.
And another.
Then five more vodka and cranberries.
Then a whiskey.
I thought about stopping then but a coworker (a girl no less) called me a half a sissy and I had one final vodka and cranberry. This was over the span of six or seven hours mind.
Well, my bosses wife, who put her hand on my thigh by the way, started telling me about her plastic surgery, and I was trying to be nice said she looked good. She kept doing that kind of fake modest “Oh I am not.” crap and I said:
“Hell, I’d bang you.”
Now in my head I meant that in the sense that were we both unwed. Also did I mention my boss was sitting next to her at the time? They also both laughed, heartily. All three of us were blitzed out of our minds. I did however apologize to both of them the next day for any offense as none had been meant.
The moral of the story? That little voice in your head? The one that tells you when you should stop? Yeah, you should always listen to it. The second moral? When I’m drunk all it takes is a pair of boobs to convince me to get even more drunk.
Re: I’m a sad little man.
Ahahahahahahaaaaa!
Re: I’m a sad little man.
Ahahahahahahaaaaa!
Oh dear. Let’s say this, the saying back in college was “It’s not a party until Cristi pukes.”
Yup. It was a party every weekend. The worst was my freshman year. (No this won’t be a puke story though at some point that did happen.)
We were playing the card game Bullshit. I wasn’t very good at it apparently. YOu know those big bottles of Mad Dog 20/20? Yeah. I had 2 1/2 by the end of the night. Apparently I kept saying things like “I’m sooooo drunk.” When I finally passed out, my “friends” decided to have fun. They posed me with a pyramid of beer cans and bottles. Wrote in a sharpie marker “I’m sooo drunk” on one arm and “Alcoholic” on the other. Then upside down on my neck “Hi! I puked!”
Gotta love your college buddies.
Oh dear. Let’s say this, the saying back in college was “It’s not a party until Cristi pukes.”
Yup. It was a party every weekend. The worst was my freshman year. (No this won’t be a puke story though at some point that did happen.)
We were playing the card game Bullshit. I wasn’t very good at it apparently. YOu know those big bottles of Mad Dog 20/20? Yeah. I had 2 1/2 by the end of the night. Apparently I kept saying things like “I’m sooooo drunk.” When I finally passed out, my “friends” decided to have fun. They posed me with a pyramid of beer cans and bottles. Wrote in a sharpie marker “I’m sooo drunk” on one arm and “Alcoholic” on the other. Then upside down on my neck “Hi! I puked!”
Gotta love your college buddies.
I too have only recently begun to indulge in the occasional social drink. I’ve noticed that certain friends are much more of a bad influence than others. Last time I was in Vegas both of my “bad influences” were with me and we went to Quark’s Bar. Home of the Warp Core Breech and the Borg Queen. The first being this humongous bowl of frothing drink that comes with six long straws and is more than enough to get all six of the people sipping from said fish bowl rather tipsy. Add to that a Borg Queen, which is quite possibly the biggest apple martini in existence – and I was quite giggly.
The walk down the strip back to our hotel was very amusing. At one point they even thought I was going to stop and play in the sprinklers. Which I definately was not going to do … okay, it was tempting, but I knew better than to ruin my new outfit. So see .. not really all THAT drunk.
I too have only recently begun to indulge in the occasional social drink. I’ve noticed that certain friends are much more of a bad influence than others. Last time I was in Vegas both of my “bad influences” were with me and we went to Quark’s Bar. Home of the Warp Core Breech and the Borg Queen. The first being this humongous bowl of frothing drink that comes with six long straws and is more than enough to get all six of the people sipping from said fish bowl rather tipsy. Add to that a Borg Queen, which is quite possibly the biggest apple martini in existence – and I was quite giggly.
The walk down the strip back to our hotel was very amusing. At one point they even thought I was going to stop and play in the sprinklers. Which I definately was not going to do … okay, it was tempting, but I knew better than to ruin my new outfit. So see .. not really all THAT drunk.
I only have one half good one (at least until I get up to Indianapolis in December when my friend swears she’s gonna teach me to do shots 😀 ).
SimuCon 2002, sitting by the pool with Valerie, Angel and Meghan. Someone had given Val a bottle of rum and she decided we needed to have rum and cokes. So she was pouring and this is my very first experience with more than one drink in a row, and only the second or third time I’ve ever had rum. It was very good, and I do remember the fact that as the night progressed while it started out that Val was pouring rum and COOOOOOOKKKKKE, it slowly progressed to coke and RUUUUUUUUUUMMMMM. In retrospect, I’m glad to say that at least I’m not mean when I’m toasted, but I am LOUD. Every single word that came out of Angel’s mouth was just so hilarious. Apparantly I’m moody though, because I seem to recall getting snippy with Steven at one point.
I didn’t go to college though, so I figure I’ll consider SimuCon my “college experience”. 😀
I only have one half good one (at least until I get up to Indianapolis in December when my friend swears she’s gonna teach me to do shots 😀 ).
SimuCon 2002, sitting by the pool with Valerie, Angel and Meghan. Someone had given Val a bottle of rum and she decided we needed to have rum and cokes. So she was pouring and this is my very first experience with more than one drink in a row, and only the second or third time I’ve ever had rum. It was very good, and I do remember the fact that as the night progressed while it started out that Val was pouring rum and COOOOOOOKKKKKE, it slowly progressed to coke and RUUUUUUUUUUMMMMM. In retrospect, I’m glad to say that at least I’m not mean when I’m toasted, but I am LOUD. Every single word that came out of Angel’s mouth was just so hilarious. Apparantly I’m moody though, because I seem to recall getting snippy with Steven at one point.
I didn’t go to college though, so I figure I’ll consider SimuCon my “college experience”. 😀
Heh. Somehow I knew you’d have a story.
Heh. Somehow I knew you’d have a story.
That’s fair. Simucon is definitely a learning experience. And how.
That’s fair. Simucon is definitely a learning experience. And how.
I have no stories to share, I’m just a chatterbox, and a happy one, when I’m drunk. BUT, you’ll have to get Steph to tell you about a) the country club sign, and b) the hot tub/shaving incident.
That girl has stories.
I have no stories to share, I’m just a chatterbox, and a happy one, when I’m drunk. BUT, you’ll have to get Steph to tell you about a) the country club sign, and b) the hot tub/shaving incident.
That girl has stories.
With drink names like those, it would be wrong not to imbibe!
I think everyone should play in sprinklers from time to time.
With drink names like those, it would be wrong not to imbibe!
I think everyone should play in sprinklers from time to time.
My first drinking experience was my senior year of high school. I went to my best friend’s house after school and I don’t remember how we got the idea, but we decided that I should get drunk (she didn’t want to get drunk because it was her house and she was afraid of her parents finding out, but she had no problem getting ME drunk…ha).
So her mom kept several gallons of cheap Chardonnay in the basement so we knew she wouldn’t notice any missing. We filled up a giant plastic tumber (at least 32 oz) with the wine and went up into her bedroom and locked the door. I drank the whole thing down over the course of an hour through a plastic bendy straw (talk about classy). Man, I was SO WASTED but I thought it was HILARIOUS and the BEST THING EVER. Until I had to stagger home at dinner time…
I only lived a block from my friend, so she helped me walk home and instructed me to just to go straight to bed and if my parents questioned me, to tell them I wasn’t feeling good. I walked in the door and my parents were upstairs so I didn’t have to worry about them seeing me, phew. 5 minutes after I got to my bedroom, I projectile vomited all over every surface of the room. It was absolutely disguting and I had to somehow clean it up without my parents finding out. I somehow mopped it all up, threw away the soiled bath towels I had used to clean it, and passed out in bed. My mom tried to wake me up for dinner but I told her I didn’t feel good and she let me go back to sleep.
The next morning I had to get up for school (yeah, I was smart enough to do this on a school night) and it was the longest day of my life…it happened to be “spirit week” at my school (meaning each day of the week was a different dress up theme) and that day was “summer day.” So I tried getting away with wearing sunglasses in class all day, but all my teachers made me take them off. I had a blinding headache and I don’t think I ate for 2 days after that.
I didn’t drink again until I was 21, and even though I have been drunk plenty of times since that first incident, to this day I cannot even SMELL chardonnay without having an overwhelming urge to puke…ugh.
My first drinking experience was my senior year of high school. I went to my best friend’s house after school and I don’t remember how we got the idea, but we decided that I should get drunk (she didn’t want to get drunk because it was her house and she was afraid of her parents finding out, but she had no problem getting ME drunk…ha).
So her mom kept several gallons of cheap Chardonnay in the basement so we knew she wouldn’t notice any missing. We filled up a giant plastic tumber (at least 32 oz) with the wine and went up into her bedroom and locked the door. I drank the whole thing down over the course of an hour through a plastic bendy straw (talk about classy). Man, I was SO WASTED but I thought it was HILARIOUS and the BEST THING EVER. Until I had to stagger home at dinner time…
I only lived a block from my friend, so she helped me walk home and instructed me to just to go straight to bed and if my parents questioned me, to tell them I wasn’t feeling good. I walked in the door and my parents were upstairs so I didn’t have to worry about them seeing me, phew. 5 minutes after I got to my bedroom, I projectile vomited all over every surface of the room. It was absolutely disguting and I had to somehow clean it up without my parents finding out. I somehow mopped it all up, threw away the soiled bath towels I had used to clean it, and passed out in bed. My mom tried to wake me up for dinner but I told her I didn’t feel good and she let me go back to sleep.
The next morning I had to get up for school (yeah, I was smart enough to do this on a school night) and it was the longest day of my life…it happened to be “spirit week” at my school (meaning each day of the week was a different dress up theme) and that day was “summer day.” So I tried getting away with wearing sunglasses in class all day, but all my teachers made me take them off. I had a blinding headache and I don’t think I ate for 2 days after that.
I didn’t drink again until I was 21, and even though I have been drunk plenty of times since that first incident, to this day I cannot even SMELL chardonnay without having an overwhelming urge to puke…ugh.
Results vary when I drink.
– Sometimes I get violent and punch everyone
– Sometimes I start to cry for no reason and I have to go home
– Sometimes I get super happy and friendly and make tonnes of new friends
– Sometimes I get very chatty and tell people more than I probably should about myself
Putting alcohol in me is like an adventure. Last time I got REALLY drunk I made some new friends on the street corner, got on a bus with them to go to a late night bar (with my friend doug stupidly coming along instead of dragging me in the other direction) talked to my new friends on the bus for about 10 minutes, realized I had no idea where I was, decided the best course of action was to GET OFF THE BUS (WTF?). Again, doug stupidly followed along. We were in the middle of nowhwere and eventually ended up on a construction site and I told him the story of my life while I sobbed on his shoulder for 3 hours. Eventually we found a cab and went back to the hotel room. Neither of us knows where the that construction site was. The next morning I noticed my clothes were COVERED in mud and my shoes were broken.
Results vary when I drink.
– Sometimes I get violent and punch everyone
– Sometimes I start to cry for no reason and I have to go home
– Sometimes I get super happy and friendly and make tonnes of new friends
– Sometimes I get very chatty and tell people more than I probably should about myself
Putting alcohol in me is like an adventure. Last time I got REALLY drunk I made some new friends on the street corner, got on a bus with them to go to a late night bar (with my friend doug stupidly coming along instead of dragging me in the other direction) talked to my new friends on the bus for about 10 minutes, realized I had no idea where I was, decided the best course of action was to GET OFF THE BUS (WTF?). Again, doug stupidly followed along. We were in the middle of nowhwere and eventually ended up on a construction site and I told him the story of my life while I sobbed on his shoulder for 3 hours. Eventually we found a cab and went back to the hotel room. Neither of us knows where the that construction site was. The next morning I noticed my clothes were COVERED in mud and my shoes were broken.
I’m a happy and clumsy drunk
Various things I’ve said while drunk:
I didn’t fall, I just sat down really fast!
I didn’t drop that, I just forgot I was holding it!
That’s not a picture of me falling down, it’s a picture of me getting back up!
I wanted to sit on the floor.
I also tend to mommy my friends when I’m drunk, so I run around handing out glasses of water and crackers and hugging everyone.
I’m a happy and clumsy drunk
Various things I’ve said while drunk:
I didn’t fall, I just sat down really fast!
I didn’t drop that, I just forgot I was holding it!
That’s not a picture of me falling down, it’s a picture of me getting back up!
I wanted to sit on the floor.
I also tend to mommy my friends when I’m drunk, so I run around handing out glasses of water and crackers and hugging everyone.
That’s me with cooking sherry. 😀 My first and only experience with sherry period was when my best friend wanted to get drunk and my parents had wisely removed all alcohol from the premises except the cooking sherry. So she fixed us both glasses and let me say… cooking sherry is just plain not meant to be drunk. It’s been 15 years and I still get queasy thinking of it.
That’s me with cooking sherry. 😀 My first and only experience with sherry period was when my best friend wanted to get drunk and my parents had wisely removed all alcohol from the premises except the cooking sherry. So she fixed us both glasses and let me say… cooking sherry is just plain not meant to be drunk. It’s been 15 years and I still get queasy thinking of it.
Oh, man. Your parents didn’t need to catch you. That whole experience was its own punishment.
Oh, man. Your parents didn’t need to catch you. That whole experience was its own punishment.
College. Freshman year. Every year they took all the high school senior pictures of the college freshman and put ’em in a little book for us so we’d know who we all were. We had to be at school a week early for orientation and what-not, and all the fraternity guys came a week early, too, to pick out the freshman girls they wanted to … errr ….
Well, anyway, two weeks after school started, I got invited to a fraternity party by this sophomore guy who’d seen my picture in the Little Book of Mug Shots. It was a Hawaiian theme, and they’d built a slide down the stairs to the basement so they could look up the skirts (yes, we still wore skirts in those days — yeesh, I’m old!), and you could get sloshed upstairs before sliding down so you really didn’t care if someone was looking up your skirt. So … we did. And then after we slid down the stairs a few times, we had more to drink down in the basement where the REAL party was, and then we just had to retire to the guy’s room for a private party. Right?
Coke and that red stuff you put in a Tequila Sunrise. The name escapes me. It takes like cough syrup, so of course me, being the drinking virgin that I was, drank it just about like cough syrup.
I don’t remember getting back to the dorm. I do remember not being able to stand up. I remember my girlfriends helping me get undressed and into bed and laughing at me ’cause I was drunk. “I am not! I just feel — funny.” I remember lying in bed and watching the ceiling swirl around till I almost fell out of bed. I don’t remember the next morning.
I pretty much gave up drinking a few years later, till the bizarre episode at the Marine Corps Birthday Ball after my son was born, where I drank three bottles of Cold Duck singlehanded….
College. Freshman year. Every year they took all the high school senior pictures of the college freshman and put ’em in a little book for us so we’d know who we all were. We had to be at school a week early for orientation and what-not, and all the fraternity guys came a week early, too, to pick out the freshman girls they wanted to … errr ….
Well, anyway, two weeks after school started, I got invited to a fraternity party by this sophomore guy who’d seen my picture in the Little Book of Mug Shots. It was a Hawaiian theme, and they’d built a slide down the stairs to the basement so they could look up the skirts (yes, we still wore skirts in those days — yeesh, I’m old!), and you could get sloshed upstairs before sliding down so you really didn’t care if someone was looking up your skirt. So … we did. And then after we slid down the stairs a few times, we had more to drink down in the basement where the REAL party was, and then we just had to retire to the guy’s room for a private party. Right?
Coke and that red stuff you put in a Tequila Sunrise. The name escapes me. It takes like cough syrup, so of course me, being the drinking virgin that I was, drank it just about like cough syrup.
I don’t remember getting back to the dorm. I do remember not being able to stand up. I remember my girlfriends helping me get undressed and into bed and laughing at me ’cause I was drunk. “I am not! I just feel — funny.” I remember lying in bed and watching the ceiling swirl around till I almost fell out of bed. I don’t remember the next morning.
I pretty much gave up drinking a few years later, till the bizarre episode at the Marine Corps Birthday Ball after my son was born, where I drank three bottles of Cold Duck singlehanded….
Wow, results really do vary when you get drunk.
It’s like White Russian roulette!
Badum *ching!*
Wow, results really do vary when you get drunk.
It’s like White Russian roulette!
Badum *ching!*
Re: I’m a happy and clumsy drunk
Awwww. You’re a sweet, cute drunk. The best kind!
Re: I’m a happy and clumsy drunk
Awwww. You’re a sweet, cute drunk. The best kind!
What? Sweet, innocent you?? My illusions are shattered!
What? Sweet, innocent you?? My illusions are shattered!
Duly noted!
Duly noted!
Yeowch. Yeah, they put salt in cooking wine. You don’t wanna drink that stuff. Well, at least you learned something!
Yeowch. Yeah, they put salt in cooking wine. You don’t wanna drink that stuff. Well, at least you learned something!
haha, good one
haha, good one
grenadine. It’s also in shirley temples. it’s made from pomogranites and has something of a cherry flavour to it. it’s also very non alcoholic and they sell it in grocery stores (you can’t buy alcohol anywhere but the LCBO in ontario). And it tastes AMAZING in coke.
There must have been something else in that coke. I put vodka in coke and grenadine because vodka mostly tastes like whatever it’s in.
grenadine. It’s also in shirley temples. it’s made from pomogranites and has something of a cherry flavour to it. it’s also very non alcoholic and they sell it in grocery stores (you can’t buy alcohol anywhere but the LCBO in ontario). And it tastes AMAZING in coke.
There must have been something else in that coke. I put vodka in coke and grenadine because vodka mostly tastes like whatever it’s in.
Oh, get on with you! Your illusions about me were shattered long, long ago. ::grin:: I think it’s funny how we regress as we get older
Oh, get on with you! Your illusions about me were shattered long, long ago. ::grin:: I think it’s funny how we regress as we get older
LOL! Then there MUST have been something else in the Coke! ‘Cause I was sure ’nuff falling-on-my-arse drunk. What a night!
LOL! Then there MUST have been something else in the Coke! ‘Cause I was sure ’nuff falling-on-my-arse drunk. What a night!
i’m a happy, huggy, peppy drunk too!! I giggled at everything and everyone, to the amusement of all. I also flirt with any cute guy I see. *grin*
The only funny alcoholic story I have (because I really hate the taste of alcohol!) is my 21st birthday when a friend took me to a bar on Monday night for the traditional legally of age 21st birthday get-drunk thing in America.
I drank a lot of disgusting shooters and stuff until my back ached and I giggled all the way home. Whereupon I threw up over my computer keyboard because people kept telling me to drink water after alcohol…which only made it WORSE. Blech.
i’m a happy, huggy, peppy drunk too!! I giggled at everything and everyone, to the amusement of all. I also flirt with any cute guy I see. *grin*
The only funny alcoholic story I have (because I really hate the taste of alcohol!) is my 21st birthday when a friend took me to a bar on Monday night for the traditional legally of age 21st birthday get-drunk thing in America.
I drank a lot of disgusting shooters and stuff until my back ached and I giggled all the way home. Whereupon I threw up over my computer keyboard because people kept telling me to drink water after alcohol…which only made it WORSE. Blech.