Sunday, 11 October 2015

Story #47 - First alcoholic experience

I was walking down the street once. It was the first time in my life that I had had a drink. I didn't really know if I liked it or not, but everybody else seemed to be livelier with it. I think I was, too.
I'm usually shy, and I was right now as well, especially since it was the first time I met these people. I only had my friend, Claire, with me, and she's out there as hell. If you put her in a room with five people, she'll talk to all five and probably lead them to something. If you'd put me in the same room, I'd probably read a book and barely make any eye contact, unless someone had something that'd pique my interest.

Getting back to that time, we were going to this pub. A friend of hers had her birthday, and Claire told me to "move my ass outside of my room and have a little fun." To which I said "I am having fun. I'm reading." She gave me a look and told to get ready 'cause we'd be leaving in ten minutes. I panicked and put on some of my less nice clothes. I don't really know why. I had time. I guess I freaked out since I knew how she was and what she might do to my nice ones.

Once we arrived at the place, "The Crow's Arm," we went upstairs where her friend was. I was expecting about ten people; there were over forty. Being out of my comfort zone is an understatement.
I tagged along after Claire for a whole hour, pretty much. I'm pretty sure I bugged her, but I didn't care. She knew how I was, and she knew she had to do something.

Some guy came up while I was sipping some soda and lime. "You look really out of place here."
"How can you tell?"
"You've been following that girl since you came in. What are you drinking?"
"Soda and lime cordial."
"I'll get you something."
"I don't drink alcohol."
"You'll like this one," he said and left my sight. He wasn't bad looking, and I didn't know his intentions. I liked his blue checkered shirt, thought. Oh, and his brown hair tilted slightly on the side, like a drape. I was looking for Claire after that.
"Here," he said, handing me a glass of a orange-ish looking beverage. "Have at it."
"What is it?"
"Drink first."
And I took a sip from the straw. There was a wedge of orange placed on a side of the wine glass.
"It's nice and bubbly."
"You like it then. It's an Aperol Spritz."
"I don't know what that means."
"It's a mixture of Aperol, Prosecco, and soda."
"Uh-huh," I mumbled, and took a longer sip. I started to like it.
For the next half an hour, we talked about everything and nothing. And I had two more of these.
Claire came by and looked at me with the glass, then hugged me; she also whispered something unintelligible, to which I nodded. I think the alcohol had started to affect me.

I don't really remember much after that. I think I had a few shots. I know that one glossy looking white shot was in my hand. It looked as it tasted. Disgusting.
Then I found myself outside, and boy did my head shake. I wanted to go straight, yet my legs went zig-zag.
I had to cross the street. You always looked right. Even the fuzzy writing on the ground said the same; I looked left. I heard a loud noise coming from my right. Then I was swept off my feet.

Everything went blank.
When I opened my eyes I was on Claire's sofa. My clothes were on the floor. I looked under the coverlet to confirm, and it was a yes. I felt like I had been violated.
I asked Claire about that night and why I was naked, and she kept telling me that she couldn't remember, but she assured me there was no foul play. I didn't feel different, so she might have been telling the truth.
Still, it's been over a year since then and I haven't had alcohol in me. Can't say I miss it much.

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