True Story: The first time I ever drank

22 Oct

Gather ’round, kids, it’s story time.

Now you may not believe it, but I wasn’t always this much fun. In fact, I was the epitome of boring up until a few months before I turned 21. I had never had a sip of booze in my life, and was about to open the door to something wonderful.

My junior year in college, I had finally shaken the stigma of underage drinking and stopped worrying about things like grades and dreams and the substance abuse board at my school. I was in the prime of my college years, and it was time for a change.

During a long weekend, one of my roommates brought me back a little present–an Ozarka bottle about a third full of Grey Goose vodka. We halved it, poured it in some Sprite and gulped it down. Nothing happened. That was the first time I ever tasted alcohol. This story is not about that time.

Once I had rid myself of my goodie-two-shoes past and imbibed, I decided to take it a step further and actually make the decision to drink without peer pressure. So the roomie and I loaded up and headed south to another college where a couple of my high school friends went. They had both already turned 21 and one of them had a house, so everything was just too easy.

We went to the grocery store, where we wandered up and down the beer and wine aisle and they asked me what I liked. I had no idea, obviously, so I told them to get whatever. Obviously, that was a terrible choice.

When we made it back to the house, we had a few six packs of Smirnoff Ice (the fuck?) and a bottle of Dripping Springs vodka. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was about to get real fucked up.

I started out with an Ice. It wasn’t bad. Tasted like candy, so I was cool with it. Looking back, I’m really glad I wasn’t at a party or somewhere I would’ve had my ass handed to me for drinking like a bitch.

They stared at me, sipping their own drinks and asking me what I felt. It took a while. After around 30 minutes and 500 questions, I started to loosen up. I had no idea what was going on, but I loved it.

My muscles relaxed. I started to sway in my chair. Some of the words coming out of my mouth were undoubtedly being sung. And I became acutely aware that I was wearing my favorite underwear. I was tipsy.

When they realized I had crossed that bridge, they decided to move it forward. Vodka shots.

I may be a pro now, but I still flinch when I describe the feeling trying to choke down my first shot of vodka. They handed them to me again and again, clinking little tequila tasting glasses (which are way bigger than a shot glass) and laughed as I guzzled them down, stopping repeatedly to almost throw up in the sink.

As I spiraled downward into a drunken stupor, I remember taking my pants off and answering a long queue of questions from my audience, like, “If you met Obama, what would you tell him?” The answer, which I read off a Post It the next morning, was, “I would make him ride an elephant.” My wit, even as a wasted boy of 20, was unstoppable.

Eventually, I retired to the bathroom, where I puked my brains out a few times. Not like the saggy-eyed, drooling, on-the-verge-of-passing-out puking though. I threw up a few times and was empty. It was like nothing happened, but I was still drunk.

I felt bad, though, that I had desecrated their bathroom, so I found a canister of Clorox wipes under the sink and proceeded to clean the room from top to bottom while they tried to beat down the locked door. One of the residents was a girl, and I say without a hint of exaggeration that there was a film nearly a quarter of an inch thick of makeup on that bathroom floor.

I scrubbed the whole room with all my might until it sparkled like my glazed-over eyes. I assume they appreciated my efforts.

The next morning, I woke up without even a slight hangover and without the burdensome pants I shed the night before. Just me, my favorite undies and the craving for greasy foods I would experience several times each week for years to come.

As it turns out, I was the only one drunk that night. While I was chugging down glasses of vodka, my friends were taking shots of water. Which means I drank an entire fifth of vodka by myself, before puking it up.

That, my friends, is how the man before you was created.

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