[Continued from "Alcohol (Part 2)."]

Somehow Heather and her friends got hold of a two liter bottle of Bartles & Jaymes wine cooler.  I don’t think wine coolers come in two liter bottles any more, perhaps because anything in a two liter bottle looks like soda.  We drank that wine cooler like it was soda.  And then I was drunk.  It was fun.

We had giggling fits over our meal.  Heather and I went to the bathroom where I sat on the floor and laughed while she peed.  I don’t have a thing for urine, but when someone pees in front of someone else it demonstrates a certain amount of intimacy and comfort.  I felt lucky to be in her presence at any time, and especially during that private time.

We made our way over to Chuck E. Cheese’s, which was packed with kids from our school; it was, after all, Teen Night, and being 14 meant there was little else for us to do.  Because I was there with Heather people who had never talked to me before accepted me.  Hell, they welcomed me.

Being young teens, we were sure to tell everyone that we were drunk.  I felt so cool.

One of the reasons I was able to go out was because I told my dad that I had a ride home.  My dad and step-mother never wanted to drive us kids anywhere, and if I had not had a ride home, I would not have been able to go out because they sure as shit weren’t going to pick me up.  But I really wanted to go out so I told a little white lie and said I had a ride.

Only I didn’t have a ride.  Before I went out I hadn’t even asked Heather if whoever picked her up could give me a ride home.  And then we had so much fun and got drunk and hung out and I kind of forgot that I needed a ride home.

So when Heather said her mom was picking her up, I realized I was in a pickle.  I asked her if her mom could give me a ride.  She said she’d ask.  I hoped.

After finding out where I lived – on the other side of town from them – Heather’s mom opted not to give me a ride.  Fuck!  I was stuck at Chuck E. Cheese’s and I could not call my dad for a ride or I’d have gotten into trouble because I had lied.  Oh, and because I was drunk.  I was sure my dad would be able to tell that I had been drinking.  Fuck!

Heather suggested I take a cab.  I didn’t even know that Redding had cabs, but I called one from a pay phone.  (Remember those?)  I told the cabbie where I lived and that I only had a certain amount of money.  He must’ve felt sorry for me because he gave me a ride home.

I had the cabbie drop me off down the street from our house just in case my parents happened to be outside or looking out a window.  I walked in the house and immediately went to bed.  That should have been somewhat suspicious to my parents, but if it was they never let on.  And they would have let on, because they didn’t let us get away with anything.

I swear.  True story.

[To be continued ….]

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