My first time...

It was the winter of 1994 and I was up in Old Forge for the weekend to visit my friend Van Slyke (Van). I had turned seventeen a few months ago; this was the first time my parents let me drive out of town for a whole weekend.  I drove up to Old Forge on Friday night, right after school. My friends E-Rick and Head were already over Van’s house when I got there. Van’s parents were away for the weekend, so we were on our own in terms of entertainment. Like most young boys, we kept busy playing video games and looking at comic books and stuff. After hours of that, though, our thumbs were sore, so we looked around for something else to do. Before long, our search brought us to Van’s parents liquor cabinet. None of us had ever drank before, and we all wanted to see what all the hype was about getting drunk. Van’s parents were not big drinkers, so all they had was a bottle of gin and a bottle of vodka. They weren’t even the expensive kinds, either. Both bottles were plastic, and cost less than $15. We didn’t care; it wasn’t not like we could tell the difference between top shelf and well liquor anyway. Van, Head and myself did a few shots to start off with. E-Rock chose not to drink, so his job that night was to babysit us and make sure we didn’t do anything stupid. He failed miserably, but he did save my life, as you’ll see.


After the shots, the three of us started mixing random shit together, hoping to find a concoction that worked All of us were completely clueless; so we mixed literally every liquid in the house with both the vodka and the gin. If you were wondering what our arsenal of mixers consisted of that night, all we had was: Sunny Delight, Orange Juice, milk and tap water. There was no soda, no punch, or even tonic water.

After a few gin and milks, I was feeling great. A few more shots and all three of us were cocked. In what would become a staple of my drinking days, I was not satisfied with just the liquor. I wanted more! So, with that, I started doing shots of Dawn Dish Soap. This really put me over the edge. I started yelling and screaming; basically getting rowdy! Dave was mildly irritated, but everyone else seemed to think it was hilarious. We were all drunk and stupid.

Being cooped indoors on this gorgeous, 10 degree day was no way I wanted to spend my night, so I decided to go outside. When I say go outside, I mean stripping down to my undies and running down the street.  It was a blizzard outside, mind you.  Dave, Erik and Jed all ran outside after me. After ten minutes or so, I got tired,  collapsed on the ground, and started doing (nearly) naked snow angels. When the gang finally caught me, they dragged me inside, made me put my clothes back on, and told me to go to bed.  Being that it was still relatively early, I wanted none of that, so I continued getting loud and rowdy. Dave got pissed off something fierce. He actually threatened to hit me over the head with a frying pan if I didn’t behave. Calling his bluff, I continued being an asshole, until Dave, finally at his wits end, picked up a frying pan and cocked it over his head, ready to strike me.

Luckily Erik, who was our sober babysitter, grabbed it from him, right as he was about to strike me. Erik Russell saved my life that day! For that, I am eternally grateful. I passed out on the toilet puking, as would become my trademark. 

Now, I know I sounded like a goof in this story, but I promise you, everyone was acting all stupid. It was the first time any of us had gotten drunk. I just can’t say what the others were doing, because I was too busy running around half-naked and doing shots of dish soap (which, unfortunately, also became a trademark of mine in my early years of drinking).

The rest of the night ended without incident, thank God- which is more than I can say for the next day.

The next morning, Dave’s parents got home early from their trip. The first thing they saw when they walked in the door was me, on the shitter, passed out. Dave’s mom went up to Dave’s room and immediately woke him up. She, of course, wondered what, the hell, was the matter with me. Groggy and hung over as hell, I’m sure the last thing Dave wanted to see when he woke up was his mom in his face, giving him the third degree. When his mom asked him what was wrong with me, Dave- like a seasoned juvenile alcoholic, told her that I drank some bad orange juice the night before. Not bad for thinking off the cuff, especially in his condition

Now, for the amazing part. Dave’s mom, very skeptical of the story, immediately stomped downstairs to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator to check this mysterious bad orange juice. She pulled the container out and read the date, only to find out that it was…SPOILED. It had expired the week before.

I have always taken this is an omen, a sign from above. Someone was no doubt looking out for us that night. Dave’s mom came over to me and was very comforting, and actually apologized to me. I could not believe our, especially my, good luck!

The rest of the weekend we got back to doing kid things, like playing video games and snow football; that first night, however, will always be  one of the greatest memories I have. You always remember the first time you get drunk, and how you act while on alcohol. That day I learned that I can get crazy when hammered. I also learned how fortunate I was that we, namely I, wasn’t busted.

My good luck with drinking continued for the next ten years. Every time I got really drunk, I never got into trouble. It was like I had a protective cloak was placed over me. I would get annihilated on the regular and do outrageous things, only to wake up the next day and laugh about it. My good fortunes all started this night. Eventually, the odds caught up with me, but it was a great ride while it lasted.