I haven’t been drunk in 13 years. There’s no heartbreaking, but ultimately uplifting story behind that, it’s just that I don’t drink. At all. Mostly because I’ve never found anything I enjoyed the taste of. Now, this is when people pipe in with suggestions of what I might like, so I should add that alcohol often makes me angry and depressed. The last time I had anything, I was inebriated enough be irrationally angry with Mr. Julien, yet rational enough to realise it was completely unjustified. It was always a 50/50 shot. No joy in that, so I gave it up. On an up note, it makes me super cheap date as I eschew alcohol, coffee, and pop. Tepid water is my drink of choice. But I wouldn’t set up a diversion like this an not give you a story about me being rip roaring drunk:
New Year’s Eve 1999. I have had a very bad year. Illness. Death. Heartbreak. I made a conscious decision to be very drunk to say good riddance to the old year and ring in the new. God knows, it had to be better. Here is what I remember:
I was at the party with other members of my comedy improv class. It was one of those programs like Leslie Knope sets up for Pawnee on Parks and Rec. When I met the other class members, I knew two things a. these were my people and b. I was a geek. I had not realised it until then. The party was at the home of someone from the class I had dated briefly during the preceding summer. My memory, such as it is, tells me the alcohol took the form of screwdrivers and jello shots. Green jello shots. I consumed them in the kitchen. I remember speaking sharply to someone about a racist comment. I remember at midnight, that I had no one to kiss, so for the first and only time, I kissed a woman. Really, it was just a peck. Her lips were very soft. Then there’s a blank space for about 3 hours. I remember walking home. Alone. In the middle of the night. I think someone may have stopped and offered me a ride which I did not take. The walk would have taken about 20 minutes. I relieved myself behind a low garden wall at the public library on the way. Classy. When I got home, the vomiting started. So much vomiting. Hours of vomiting. The kind of vomiting that goes on so long that you start to wonder if it’s ever going to stop, or if perhaps you should see someone about it. Then I slept for about 12 hours.
It’s not much of a story is it? Pretty heavy on the vomiting. I’m sure you can do better.