I’ve been inspired by juicy gossip a family mishap to post a blog on underage drinking. Recently my niece (who blatantly cares nothing for me, or my immediate family, which as a side note is really sad because I truly enjoyed having a niece a few years ago-more family drama except on my husband’s side-and I miss having that in my life) was discovered to have some empty bottles of cheapo vodka hidden in what I’m sure she thought were strategic places in her room. She also had a shot glass handily wrapped in her “delicates” drawer.
I’m not going to expand on all the different issues involved in this situation; no, this post is designed more for the selfish reason of recording a few of my own teenage memories for the annals of history, just in case I ever become a smidgen as historically famous as Marie Antoinette (for instance) and the historians will need something to come back to and assist them with piecing together my daily life. Hey, it could happen.
So my sister was telling me all the juicy details about this mishap (she is her step-mom by the way, so that compounds everything for both of them) & I started thinking later on about when I was this girl’s age (…the edge of seventeen) & actually earlier. I had collected shot glasses & had them on display around my room. I had 1 or 2 empty booze bottles just to round out the coolness factor, and a wine bottle with one of those drippy candles in it. I hadn’t drank the alcoholic contents & I didn’t use the shot glasses. Literally…decoration.
My room was decorated in this fashion for quite awhile, until I grew out of it.
Then I started remembering one of my ballsiest schemes ever. You have to know that I was not a very rebellious kid…at all. I’m the first born/oldest so I understood it was my duty to go to school, stay out of trouble, get good grades, be a good example for my younger sister. But I guess every kid has a little bit of rebel in them, and mine was to concoct a fabulous plan where my friends, boyfriend and I skipped school & stayed home drinking Budweiser all day. I know, I know but hellfire…I was 14! This was exciting shit. So I kicked it off by convincing my mom I was too terribly sick for school. Win! She let me stay home, no questions asked because I was such a cunty goody two shoes good kid. Then I called my friend, who was with her older boyfriend (aka the beer buyer) & I’m fuzzy on the details now but after my mom left for work everyone was supposed to meet at my place. (I can’t remember if the beer buyer was just going to blatantly park in the driveway or across the street at the little kids school…probably the driveway)
Everyone came & it was time for phase 2 of the great plan-no celebrating yet! Next we all had to call the school for each other to excuse our absences; beat the school at their own game…before they could call our parents to see where we were, we’d provide them the answer! Very common practice for kids missing school. I don’t remember who did what (beer guy of course didn’t need anyone to call for him; might I just point out how questionable I’m finding this person nowadays looking back, that he so easily went along with a bunch of 14 year olds?!) but I did call & pretend to be my boyfriend’s grandma (his mom wasn’t around; I realize now it would’ve been better to have creepy beer guy be his dad)…the school totally bought it! We were home free! Able to lounge in my room, sip our Buds like kings & queens, & relive our success; my bf had brought along his dorky friend who was making us all laugh. I assured my friends that my trusty canine would bark at the slightest notion of someone pulling in the driveway or opening the front door.
So imagine the mild heart pounding heart attack I experienced when there was beating on my locked bedroom door. Imagine the frozen looks of shock & bewilderment & “What the fucking hell do we do now?!” all over our faces. Then chaos. It didn’t sound like my mom but that was the only person it could be, right? The dorky friend literally jumped into my closet & was peering out from between my clothes; the rest of us started throwing the beers in a book bag then shoved them in the closet with him & closed the door. Meanwhile my mom has started bellowing at me to open the G.D. door, so at least it confirmed it wasn’t an ax murderer who liked drunk teenagers. Eventually I opened the door; boy was she pissed. White hot rage would best describe it. She started threatening to throw creepy beer guy in jail so he hauled ass…I never…ever…saw him again. My friend was a little sad but she ended up being a lesbian anyway so it probably didn’t matter much. Then my mom announced to us that she would be taking us to school as we were. Drunk.
On the way to school she revealed how it had all gone down: when I called as a grandmother, the nosy bitch office lady didn’t think the voice sounded old enough. So she checked the absentee log & saw where my (real) mom had called in for me. Apparently the school staff was stalking us because she then claimed she knew we were dating & thought something was fishy so she called my mom at work, filling her in on the whole thing. Mom snuck home, didn’t shut her car door (she parked right outside my room by the way…I’m such a deaf idiot), & the dog betrayed me by greeting her when she came in, which I hadn’t considered, and therefore staying quiet. So we get to the school & those ass clowns had called the cops! To give us fucking breathalyzers. Just to get us in trouble with the school too. We all failed & then the Principal informed us that we were suspended in, like, 3 different ways…2 days out, varying days in. Then for some reason we were told to go tell all of the teachers whose classes we were supposed to be in at the time. I think that was just for the adults entertainment. Either way it backfired because it gave us all the opportunity to show our friends that we really were drunk, therefore lending credibility to the rumors that would fly. I have to admit that being able to brag that I came to school drunk & got a breathalyzer & then suspended did give me a little bit of a bad ass quality. Then I went back home & probably fought with my mom for awhile before passing out.
So that’s my first real drinking story. Unfortunately I can’t remember what my parents did to punish me, and my mom isn’t here to help me out. Back then I never thought it would be a cherished memory…I felt like my life was over. But I can only smile now, and be glad it’s part of my memory lane. Do you have any stories from being a teenager??
live. laugh. love. 