Maybe I wasn't the typical 16 year old in 1980 but believe it or not I was the cautious one in my circle of friends.. I started smoking pot and cig's when I was 12 and could get them. Of course those things became more easily available the older I got. Began going to keg parties around 13. I met my husband at 15, he was 26.
By the time I was 16, Joe and I were pretty serious. We were at the point that it was understood that we would be together on Friday and Saturday nights. One Saturday he called to say he was going out with the boys instead. They wanted to go to a bar and I was too young to get in. I would have been okay with it but it was 4:00 on Saturday when he called. My sister and best friend were out of town, even my Mom was leaving for the night so I couldn't use her car. I felt like he waited to tell me so that I would not be able to go anywhere.
I was determined to go somewhere and have fun to spite him. I started calling friends I hadn't hung out with in a while.. one of them said he couldn't go out but I should call Billy. Billy was 19, he had a car and drinking age was 18 so he was picking up a keg for a party. The party was at some guy named Steve's parents house (they were out of town). I had met him a few times but didn't really know him. I knew Billy better but we were never close friends. He had a tendency to steal things, had been arrested for breaking into a house once.... There are worse crimes than stealing but trusting a thief is always hard for me to do.
Knowing all of this, I called him anyway. The house was empty when Billy picked me up. We made it to the keg store, I waited in the car as he loaded it in the trunk. We pulled out of the parking lot and did not even make it across the intersection when the transmission fell out, bad universal joint. We pushed the car back into the parking lot called a tow truck and the guys at the party.
In a few minutes a guy named Danny pulled up in a truck. He was sent to pick up the keg and us. I had never met him before he seemed okay. We got in the truck drove maybe 1/2 mile when we got pulled over. As this was happening Danny said damn, I wish I hadn't chugged that pint of bourbon right before you guys called.... The cops took Danny to jail but they let Billy and me leave in his truck.
I'm not a very religious person but if I were maybe I would have thought those were signs I should go home.
Once we finally made it to the party we iced the keg and started drinking. I was one of very few females there and I wasn't really having fun so I kept drinking. One of my last memories of that night was talking to some mean girls who showed up. These girls were two years older than me and they bullied my best friend and I in 6th grade and then again in 9th grade
I remember telling them and everyone there that they were bitches and my best friend was way cooler than them. I walked around getting people to agree they liked my bff better than them and then yelling across the room, "everyone here likes Lucinda better than you!"
Next thing I remember was waking up on the couch, sunshine blasting through the windows, guys passed out all around me on chairs, the loveseat, the floor.. my first thought was holy shit my Mom is going to kill me. I was relieved when I saw one of my brothers friends on the floor. I kicked him "George, please take me home!" He did, he knew my Mom though so he dropped me off a block away. I noticed I had a cigarette burn on my face on the ride home. I will never know if I did that to myself or if the mean girls did it when I passed out.
I was so scared when I walked in the kitchen and Mom was at the table. She said you are up early, I said "yeah I woke up early and went over to Nancy's (next door neighbor)". "Oh that's nice" she replied and went back to reading the paper.
My saving grace was that I had changed clothes after Mom left for the night and left my bedroom door shut. She never noticed I was gone.
When I was finally in my room it hit me how lucky I was. Not just to fool my Mother but that I didn't get raped or beaten up or arrested.
Not remembering what happened was the worst feeling I had ever experienced. I kept obsessing over the thought that anything could have happened and I would have been powerless to stop it.
I was born to be the designated driver. My body was not made for drinking, Now I get sick before I get drunk. I still don't like the taste or smell of beer though I discovered I like wine in my twenties. My happy hours: "A glass of pinot grigio and a diet coke please"
