The last few days I've been a little on the serious side of things. I have had too much "real life" running through my mind. I decided that since today was the end of the work week (in theory) I would post a little story about my first encounter with too much alcohol. It was actually the first time I got drunk away from a family function where I could just hide from my parents and go to bed early without them realizing it (yeah we Italians and our wine).

I was 14 years old and it was Summer vacation. I was enjoying my vacation except for the fact that this girl I knew was moving away. She was friends with one of our neighbors and happened to be hanging out down there with him on her last night in town. I had a bit of a crush on her, but I didn't realize that she was out of my league at the time (she was 16 and had a drivers license). I walked down the street and there they were sitting out in front just chatting, but it was obvious that they were not interested in company at the time. I spoke a few akward words with them and left. I decided to visit another friend that was just up the street and only a few minutes further.

I got to my friend Jeff's house and he was outside as well (funny how so many of us actually just hung out in the yard before all those video games). We played some catch and were just talking like teenage boys do. He brought up the fact that his mom was asleep because she had to work early the next day and maybe we could sneak out some of her booze from the liquor cabinet. I had never drank hard liquor just wine and a beer so I was all for it. He snuck in the house and came back a few minutes later with a mason jar full of clear liquid. He told me to hang on and ran back in. A few minutes later he was back with 2 bowls of ice cream. He explained that his brother told him that milk would coat our stomachs and we wouldn't get sick if we ate the ice cream first.

So a bowl of ice cream and some tortilla chips and then we were drinking from the jar. Well the jar went pretty fast and then he was back in the house. He came back with another jar filled with a brown liquid. This one tasted much stronger than the first. I came to find out it was bacardi (thankfully not 151). We shined that off in record time and he went back for another. Time passed and he wasn't back yet. I started to worry that he had been caught. About that time he showed back up with one more jar full and it was the original stuff that was clear. That was vodka and it went down pretty smooth considering I was 14 and had no experience to base it on. Three down and I was feeling a little bit silly (actually more than a little). He sort of ran back in the house and came back with a bottle that was labeled Kahlua. He explained that any more booze out of the bottles and somebody would know. I sort of figured they were gonna know anyway. We went ahead and drank this stuff and it was gross, gross, gross. I was a little bit dizzy and told him I better get going home.

So began my trip to the house. I was about 1/2 mile from my goal. The trip started off smoothly enough. I was stumbling a little bit, but not all that much. I could see clearly for the most part and figured I had this licked. That all changed when I came around the last corner and started the straightaway to my house. I didn't quite make the turn and slipped to the curb. I remember getting up and stumbling into a parked car and falling again. This time I think they were bushes that I landed in after bouncing off the car. About that time the girl that I had the sort of crush on and her "friend" came up and asked if I was ok. Well I don't really remember what the words were that came out of my mouth, but they must have figured they meant no.

It turns out that I was on the lawn of family friends. The father came out and saw that I was pretty lit. He stood me up and I started to voice my objections by throwing up all over this guy's clothes. I should mention that Steve is a former vietnam Marine. He is very nice if he likes you, and not so much if he doesn't. He is also not so nice when you vomit on him. He dropped me rather uncerimoniously and went back in the house. A few minutes later my mom was standing over me and was speaking to me in some foreign language. I mumbled something and she became angry. I never was told exactly what I said, but it's been a rare occasion to see my mom that pissed at any comment her son made.

I next remember being brought into our "friends" house and that is where the fun began. I belive that I vomitted on the couch, the floor, the aquarium (yeah poor fish), the shower, and the extra bedroom where I spent my night. Bright and early the next morning my father was there to bring me home. Not a word was said, but he informed me that I was still drunk. I was put into our swimming pool to "sober" me up. So he basically allowed me to be awake and drunk. Later that day I was forced to go to my all star tryouts and was then grounded for the duration of my Summer.

While I admit it wasn't my proudest moment, it was a definite learning experience. Especially after I had to go back down to all those houses in that cul de sac and apologize to the people for being an ass (drunk). The positive aspect of this story.....I was able to give my friends something to tease me about to this very day. The negative. To this day I can't drink Kahlua. Jose Cuervo wasn't really much of a friend that night after all....