Junior year of high school was the first time I ever drank. For one reason or another, I just didn’t go to parties. My friends didn’t drink, I was hanging out with my boyfriend, I had to be home at an ungodly early time, etc. But once I was single and ready to show off the fact that I was now single, my inner party girl was born. I wanted to drink and make out with boys, and that was what I was going to do. I enlisted the help of two girls on my field hockey team who I knew could help me with my dilemma. They had alcohol connections and parents chill enough that we could drink without worrying. We had all been invited to the same Halloween party, and I had spent weeks, as I still do, planning my costume. I decided to be a pirate. I tore up stockings, painted a fake scar on my face, and found a handkerchief in the back of my closet for my head. It was a pretty good costume, but it was missing something. I had just watched Jenna Marbles’ video where she puts on a double bra, and I knew that’s the trick that would really put me over the edge. I was finally ready to emerge as a “cool girl.”
I took my first shot with little to no grace. They poured me a tiny halfsy shot to see if I could handle it, and I could not. Why did people drink this?! It’s like acidic poison! If I wanted to be cool though, I had to drink. I took another shot and felt the Smirnoff burn holes through my esophogeal lining. This is what cool girls do. I’m cool now. Not that cool though, because after a second full shot, I was feeling buzzed. I think? Maybe it was psychosomatic. Regardless, I was finally hot, I was finally single, I was finally drunk, and I was finally going to a huge party.
My two friends held onto the alcohol I had no intention of drinking while I floated around the party, giggling and taking pictures. I saw these people every day at school, but tonight was a special occasion. I made my rounds and nearly took up my phone storage by the time I saw the one person I showed up to the party for. I had a crush on him since he was my valentine in third grade, and I made it glaringly obvious. Absolutely no chill about me. Whatever ounce of dignity and poise that I had went out the window whenever he was around. Maybe it was because he was the first boy to make me laugh until I cried, or because he had, like, the prettiest eyes, I was just totally about him. We had a brief fling at our 8th grade dinner dance, and after missing my chance to fulfill my elementary school dreams to kiss this boy, I knew tonight was the night.
The crowd cleared like a movie. I was standing there in my pirate costume, he was standing there in his hot dog suit, and both the world and my heart stopped. How could someone rock a hot dog suit like that? He flashed a smile at me and I almost collapsed. Keep it together. Remember you are cool now, I thought to myself.
“Hey, let’s get a picture,” I slurred with a smile (I was ~wasted.~)
“Of course, girl. Come here.”
I snuggled up right next to him to capture this perfect moment.
You may notice I cut out another girl from the picture. I was going to just blur her face but she looked way better than I did even with the blurred face, so she had to go. Anyway, back to the story.
We spent the rest of the night laughing and talking. I couldn’t believe that I was at a party, with this guy, finally living the high school dream. I don’t remember if he leaned into me or I threw myself at him, but I finally got what I had came there for. Even with my eyes closed, I could still see the flashes of phone cameras. Everyone was looking at me making out with this hot dog and I was so content.
That Monday, everyone had questions for me. It wasn’t just a rumor, it was a fact. I made out with a hot dog, and it was one of the best nights of my life. But seriously, it was one time..
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