Shots or pints (this might take a while)
Many a year ago I'd hit that age all men experience, where blossoming hormones force you to fall for the class whore and believe that underneath it all she's the sweet, caring, friendly woman you secretly desired. Of course, later on you'd realise your naivity and go on to spend evenings banging your head against hard surfaces as you muttered 'Why, Lord? Why?' under your breath in between comforting units of cheap plonk.

This lass was called Lauren. At the time, we were both 14 year old sproglets keen to explore this opening world, and from across the classroom I worshipped her and gazed longingly when my eyes were transfixed on her smoking outside school, snorting narcotics and fellating drug dealers. She was a princess. She had to be mine.

When news arrived that I had been invited to a gig she helped organise at a local club (albeit purely due to a 'I did say the whole class was invited, so I suppose that includes you' rationale), I saw this as an opportunity to reinvent myself as a trendsetter. If my darling could drink and undertake illegal drugs, so too could I. I would dazzle her at my ability to consume fermented liquids and inhale burning contraband, and she'd have to fight off the urge to pounce me there and then.

When you're 14 years old and have never drunk before, the golden rule would probably be not to down an entire pint of vodka in order to impress a woman. That and if you must drink to a point where hospitalisation occurs, make sure the woman in charge of the Accident and Emergency ward isn't your mother. I took both of these rules, melted them into rings and pawned off what I could for beer money.

Within half an hour, I was smashed. The most smashed I've ever been (and I'm a student with access to a free bar). Forget Dutch courage, I had the confidence of the entire membership of the United Nations under my belt. I was going to tell her I wanted her, and tell her in front of her boyfriend too. She'll see the light, and I'll see where the light don't shine on her!

All I needed to say was 'You look great tonight'. Just say she looks great. Nothing can possibly go wrong. What's that feeling in my stomach? Nomatter, there she is. Go for it.

'Laurensch, yew luk utterly amazsh'*HURL*

And like that, I'd smashed my hopes. A drug addict and her boyfriend doused in the remains of a bottle of vodka and some pepperoni pizza.

I should've just called it a night and gone home. Why didn't I just call it a night and go home? Why did I stay to laugh at the now sobbing deity? Why did I tell her protective father that he could 'take all that bullshit parenting for your cokehead kid and stick it up your arse, you balding cockgoblin'? Why did I fall over? What's all this bright light? Why is this bloke in a shiny jacket asking my name? Why is my mother here? What do you mean I'm grounded Mum? Why are you telling me to stop swearing? What do you mean where do I think I am? How can I be grounded? What did I do? Did I really tell the ward matron she'd be less of a bitch if she just got off her dyke arse and found some cock?

I spent the entire weekend racked with guilt and an unbearable urge to vomit, dreading Monday morning. Lauren would never look me in the eyes again. Everyone had seen me blurt my feelings and try an fight a professional bodybuilder before harrassing a police officer. I was a laughing stock. World, swallow me now.

I walked into the classroom that dreaded Monday to a standing ovation from the very people who taunted me my whole life. I'd given the bitch what she deserved, I was told, and done it with a fantastic effort. For the rest of my time at that school, I was made.

Somehow, I'd finally fit in.

No apologies for length; I've always been able to project fluids across rooms.
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Thu 15 Jan 2009, 13:26, 2 replies)

*Click*
Ace story! Made me laugh and remember my first time getting drunk...
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 13:36, closed)

at 14 you used the phrase...
"take all that bullshit parenting for your cokehead kid and stick it up your arse, you balding cockgoblin."

uh huh.
( Maffers I flow kinda strange like Spina Bifida footprints, Thu 15 Jan 2009, 14:10, closed)