Andy’s dad owned a liquor store so we had access to all types of alcoholic beverages. On this particular night, we decided to take shots of Johnny Walker and Crème de Menthe. How I didn’t realize that this combination would lead to bad things is beyond me. Andy and I sat in his driveway drinking and trading insults until Lyle arrived.
We grabbed the liquor, got into Lyle’s car and were on our way. I started drinking straight out of the bottle and I recall hanging out of the window and yelling at passers-by. When we arrived at the party, I jumped out of the car and started dancing in the parking lot. I noticed a girl who was 6’-10” and decided to ask her out. Keep in mind that I’m not even 6 feet tall. I would have never approached this Amazon if I were sober, but that night I did many things that I’d never do if I were sober.
This is where my memory of the subsequent events ends. What follows are third party accounts and eye-witness testimony.
My friends tell me that I entered the party, ran to the middle of the dance floor, and started busting some moves that Michael Jackson, MC Hammer, and Fred Astaire would envy. A crowd started to form around me and I attempted an ill-advised break dance routine. Lyle picked me up off the floor and sat me down. After a few minutes, I grew ill and puked. Lyle and Andy rushed me to the restroom to clean me up. A police officer happened to be in the restroom and asked what was wrong with me.
“He just ate some bad Mexican food,” they lied. The officer didn’t fall for it and threatened to arrest me for public intoxication if they didn’t take me home immediately. By then I had passed out and my friends carried me back to the car.
“Your mother’s on the phone,” the voice said.
“Where am I,” hoping the voice wouldn’t say Heaven or worse Hell.
“You’re at my cousin’s house,” Andy said. “I couldn’t take you home because your mom would have been pissed.”
He was right. I quickly sobered up at the thought of facing my mother’s wrath. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her that you were sick and decided to spend the night at my house,” Andy said.
I grabbed the phone out of his hands and timidly said, “Hi, mom!”
“You’d better be home in 30 minutes and ready to go to church,” she said and hung up the phone. I got dressed and asked Andy to take me home immediately.
My mom’s only comment to me was, “If you’re grown enough to stay out all night on Saturday, you’re grown enough to worship the Lord on Sunday.”
That was the longest church services I ever attended. I was dizzy, my stomach was queasy, and my head felt as if someone had beaten me with a bag of rocks. At that moment, I wished that Jesus would come and save me.
On the way home from church, my sister kept taunting me.
“I know you were drunk,” she whispered. I ignored her and wallowed in my misery.
To this day, my stomach churns every time I smell a minty drink – alcoholic or not. Being that drunk was a horrible feeling and I promised myself never to experience it again.
Question: Have you ever had a similar drinking binge?