I got drunk for the very first time at the age of 13. It was only beer and I had been drinking that for a long time. Not in massive quantities, mind you. Just a sip from a parent here and there.
It was the dead of winter, which, in and of itself is not a great time to be drunk. We had a huge sled riding party complete with bonfire. We were country kids; we knew how to keep warm. There are honestly not a lot of things I remember about that night. Among the things I do recall:
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blowing up two plastic innertubes like one would use in the pool, by mouth, so we could use them on the hill
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drinking six beers
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innertube riding
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climbing up to the top of the hill with no tube and then just rolling down
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upon reaching the bottom of the hill, hearing someone say, “Man, she’s wasted.”
Somehow, I managed to not throw up and I managed to get home in one piece that was not frozen. Although lonely, I actually look back fondly at that night. Up until I took the tumble, it was a good time. The tumble didn’t hurt me, just woke me up a bit I guess.
