Trade
Well-known Member
One thing I regret is not keeping a journal. I've started them a few times but I've never made it more than a few days before fizzling out. And now that I am getting old I find my memories are fading. So I've decided to start this thread so that I can write down some stuff that I still remember from the past. Will this effort fizzle out like all the other's in the past? Probably. But here goes.
My first entry is entitled "First Time Drunk".
It was the summer between the 9th and 10th grade. I had just turned 15 and was living with my mother in a little cottage behind someone's house. She was renting it for 50 bucks a month. Since my mother was a single mom waitress I was pretty much a latch key kid from fairly early on. So my buddy and I hatched a plan where we would get drunk one day when I had the place to myself. The plan was that we would each acquire a six pack of beer somehow. I managed to talk my mother into buying a six pack of Miller High Life in cans on the pretense that I just wanted to "try it." That was the kind of beer she would drink on rare occasions when she did. If I caught her in the right mood I could talk her into doing things for me that she ordinarily wouldn't. That's what I did this time. I'm sure all she had in mind was that she would let me take a few sips out of one while she was there. But you know how that out of sight, out of mind thing works.
I don't remember the brand that my buddy got. Or how he got it for that matter, but he was the kind of kid that would just take six of his old man's beers out of the refrigerator without asking and to Hell with the consequences, so that's probably what he did. So anyway, we had the place to ourselves and we stated pounding those brewski's. Neither one of us had ever drank before so after we had each had four beers we were both three sheets to the wind and acting pretty stupid. He had a Vespa motor scooter and we decided to take a ride around the neighborhood on it. I don't remember much except that we took a spill on it in the alley behind where I lived, so after that we decided to go back inside and finished the rest of the beers, which we did. At the time I weighed about 170 lbs and my buddy only went about a buck forty so even though we were both drunk, it hit him a bit harder and he got sick. But instead of hugging the commode like you are supposed to, he went to the bath room sink and started up chucking into it.
The problem with this is that it was a fre standing sink and he leaned his whole weight on it. When he did that, the sink came off the wall and in the process sheared off the copper water supply tube that came out of the wall. So right away water started gushing out of that tubing at 30 psi and it was going all over the place. I panicked and started trying to stop the water by wrapping a wash cloth, and then a towel around the end of the tubing but of course that didn't do anything so then I ran outside and started looking all around the cottage for a shut off valve, but I couldn't find one. Finally in desperation I went up to the main house and knocked on the landlords door. That was about the time by buddy decided to beat it for home.
I made up some story about how it had been an accident and left out any reference to the fact that we had been drinking. By that time I was feeling pretty well sobered up from the situation although I don't know how it appeared to anyone looking at me. The landlord was a guy that was confined to a wheelchair but he knew right where the shut off valve was and he got the water turned off. By that time there was a good 2 inches of water over the entire floor of the cottage. Fortunately the place had terrazzofloors so there wasn't any damage to them, just a mess to clean up. When my mother got home she was pretty mad but I tried to pass off the story that it had just been an accident and it was working sort of, until she noticed that all her beer was gone. Then I had to fess up that my buddy and I had each had three beers. I didn't mention that he had brought six others over and that we really had had six each. That didn't help much but I still stuck with the three beers story.
My first entry is entitled "First Time Drunk".
It was the summer between the 9th and 10th grade. I had just turned 15 and was living with my mother in a little cottage behind someone's house. She was renting it for 50 bucks a month. Since my mother was a single mom waitress I was pretty much a latch key kid from fairly early on. So my buddy and I hatched a plan where we would get drunk one day when I had the place to myself. The plan was that we would each acquire a six pack of beer somehow. I managed to talk my mother into buying a six pack of Miller High Life in cans on the pretense that I just wanted to "try it." That was the kind of beer she would drink on rare occasions when she did. If I caught her in the right mood I could talk her into doing things for me that she ordinarily wouldn't. That's what I did this time. I'm sure all she had in mind was that she would let me take a few sips out of one while she was there. But you know how that out of sight, out of mind thing works.
I don't remember the brand that my buddy got. Or how he got it for that matter, but he was the kind of kid that would just take six of his old man's beers out of the refrigerator without asking and to Hell with the consequences, so that's probably what he did. So anyway, we had the place to ourselves and we stated pounding those brewski's. Neither one of us had ever drank before so after we had each had four beers we were both three sheets to the wind and acting pretty stupid. He had a Vespa motor scooter and we decided to take a ride around the neighborhood on it. I don't remember much except that we took a spill on it in the alley behind where I lived, so after that we decided to go back inside and finished the rest of the beers, which we did. At the time I weighed about 170 lbs and my buddy only went about a buck forty so even though we were both drunk, it hit him a bit harder and he got sick. But instead of hugging the commode like you are supposed to, he went to the bath room sink and started up chucking into it.
The problem with this is that it was a fre standing sink and he leaned his whole weight on it. When he did that, the sink came off the wall and in the process sheared off the copper water supply tube that came out of the wall. So right away water started gushing out of that tubing at 30 psi and it was going all over the place. I panicked and started trying to stop the water by wrapping a wash cloth, and then a towel around the end of the tubing but of course that didn't do anything so then I ran outside and started looking all around the cottage for a shut off valve, but I couldn't find one. Finally in desperation I went up to the main house and knocked on the landlords door. That was about the time by buddy decided to beat it for home.
I made up some story about how it had been an accident and left out any reference to the fact that we had been drinking. By that time I was feeling pretty well sobered up from the situation although I don't know how it appeared to anyone looking at me. The landlord was a guy that was confined to a wheelchair but he knew right where the shut off valve was and he got the water turned off. By that time there was a good 2 inches of water over the entire floor of the cottage. Fortunately the place had terrazzofloors so there wasn't any damage to them, just a mess to clean up. When my mother got home she was pretty mad but I tried to pass off the story that it had just been an accident and it was working sort of, until she noticed that all her beer was gone. Then I had to fess up that my buddy and I had each had three beers. I didn't mention that he had brought six others over and that we really had had six each. That didn't help much but I still stuck with the three beers story.