It began well enough.
It was my just after 18th birthday. I'd finished school and was off with my then gf and a few mates (some with their SOs) down to the coast to my dad's birthplace.
We were to stay in a cosy little beach shack that belonged to a friend of the old mans. On the beautiful NSW coast. In summer.

Sexy fun times with the gf were sure to ensue. Along with lots of new found freedom driving her brand new (old) car with my brand new licence.
And then followed by lots of getting really shitfaced facilitated by my newly found "being of legal age to buy alcohol".

The drive:
7 of us (illegally) crammed into an HQ stationwagon. For 6 hours with a 30min piss-stop after about two. Anyone with kids? "Are we there yet?" Amplify that by about 1000, with 6 other like-aged teenagers...
Why my gf's rents had chosen to buy her an expensively done up Holden classic as her first car when she didn't even have her licence I'll never be able to fathom. Both of my kids are getting cheap but reliable zippy little things with ANCAP ratings and airbags up the fucking wazoo.

The arrival:
The "quaint beachside cottage" - literally a 3 room shack about two blocks back from the beach was a bit less than advertised. The fact that it had a front door and glass in the window panes was probably a bonus. The solitary naked lightglobes hanging from the ceiling in each room and the cold running water in the bathroom and kitchenette were what elevated it to "luxury".
Privacy came down to being the couple (or single person and hand) who managed to achieve the deed under a blanket, without waking the rest of the house, let alone the neighbors.
The outside toilet was an upturned, open-ended can with a toilet seat on top sitting over a cesspit. Being bitten by something that could survive in that foetid environment was the least of your concerns as you let loose a morning after clanger; that would slither and plop noisily into the seething, churning mass beneath you feet. Fortunately whoever had designed and built the house had failed to take into account that the cooling seabreeze that billowed in in the afternoon began downwind of the shithouse and then straight in through the back door.

The stay:
On the second night (of a week) the gf decided we were "having trouble communicating" and whilst drunkenly screaming at me like a banshee, broke up. Then she tried to make her own quietus. By eating an entire box of panadol (500mg paracetamol per tabx20). I got her to the local emergency dept. where they looked at us incredulously, muttered about the fact that it might upset her tummy and gave her a shit-ton of ipecac. I will say this - it works. Her stomach was empty in a matter of minutes. Quite spectacularly. By the 4th night she had decided that to ease her solace she needed to form a relationship with Jimmy, the single junky who'd only decided at the last minute to come down to see what the "scene" was like. Aside from some vague jealousy and cuckoldry feelings I was happy to see the back of her - any fella who was prepared to take that on knowing everything that had happened deserved at least a little bit of encouragement.

The return:
True to form the done-up Holden decided to shit itself halfway back on the looooong drive home. After a couple of hours hitching, a good hour's walking and finally finding a public phone-box (pre mobiles) that hadn't been pissed in and then vandalized we discovered that not only were my (now) ex-gfs parents incredibly stupid in buying her an old bomb, they were also incredibly lazy when it came to investing in roadside assistance. About $1200 later for a tow and a new timing belt and we were on our way home. Again.

All in all: a great coming of age summer holiday. Consolidated some great friendships, saw the writing on the wall for a couple of others and came away a much happier person than before I left - just took me a while to figure it out. Some of us still head to the coast together to drop a line in - this time we take separate cars.
(shitposter from the anals of posteriority on, Fri 31 Jul 2015, 22:03, 19 replies)

Fuck off, Rob Fairholme, you tragic fat cuckolded mess.

(Go Man River everybody loves anal, Sat 1 Aug 2015, 8:16, closed)

Lol,
Pathetic.
(immadme, Sat 1 Aug 2015, 8:45, closed)

td:dr nobody liked you back then either

(katie hopkins telling it where its at, Sat 1 Aug 2015, 11:37, closed)

Seems odd...
A paracetamol ovedose results in a little more than an "upset tummy". If you're going to OD it's probably the most painful thing you could OD on. If you'd let her be she'd likely have woken up the next morning feeling fine then died of multiple organ failure over the course of a week or so. Still, they were medical professionals and I'm just somebody who reads things.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Sat 1 Aug 2015, 12:31, closed)

I think it was the ipecac syrup
they were talking about when they said it might upset her tummy - & boy, did it! That and her very obvious state of inebriation/heightened drama. She did get a very stern talking to from one of the Dr's about how the panadol could have caused her liver to fail. He emphasised to me that it was really good that I had brought her in early on in the piece (as it were). Despite her clear flakiness I wasn't yet at the point in my life where I would comfortably leave a fellow human being who has just attempted suicide to wallow in their own misery.

Forgot where I was for a moment - my apologies to any other desk-chair experts out there for any other errors I may have made in my completely un-embellished tale from my past.
(shitposter from the anals of posteriority on, Sat 1 Aug 2015, 13:44, closed)

ah...
Makes sense to this desk-flying monkey.
(Me, I'm not... in any way intoxicated, Sat 1 Aug 2015, 14:48, closed)

Not bad

(bad_advice QOTW survivor from the first trollocost!, Sun 2 Aug 2015, 2:52, closed)

My kids can buy their own fucking cars, just like I had to.

( monster munch person, man, woman... camera... TV?, Sun 2 Aug 2015, 22:02, closed)

Jesus this is fucking dull.
Tl; dr: You went on a road trip, accommodation was shit, GF dumped you and tried to top herself, car broke down on way back.
(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Mon 3 Aug 2015, 11:41, closed)

CLASSIC!

(Set your faces to Stunned Bigly, Mon 3 Aug 2015, 11:52, closed)

Where the fuck were you when I was head dobbing all that shit out earlier?

(shitposter from the anals of posteriority on, Mon 3 Aug 2015, 13:31, closed)

Shouldn't that be your carer's job?

(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Mon 3 Aug 2015, 15:41, closed)