"School's out forever..."
In June 1999, I graduated from highschool. High school seemed to be more of a prison sentence than a schooling period, but I suppose it was a necessary part of my development. Towards the end of the last school year, I was feeling more infatuation with Sarah. Aleks and I went for a walk one night, drinking screwdrivers (vodka and orange juice) out of flasks. I explained to him my situation. I wanted to ask her out, but I didn't know how. Aleks, being a guy who is very generous with his advice-giving, told me how he thought I should do it.
"Just let it come up in conversation. Say 'I'd really like to get together some time. Maybe we could go for coffee?'"
I thanked him for the screwdriver and the advice, and I psyched myself up to ask her at any opportunity.
Well, for those reading expecting a happy end to this part of the story, I deliver now the bad news. I chickened out. Not just once but a number of times I talked to her and I just couldn't do it. Aleks' dad years later gave me the best advice regarding dating that could have helped me here. He said "Be honest and don't chicken out. Rejection is not the end of the world no matter how painful it seems at the time."
Graduations are funny things. You spend have the day trying to make yourself look immaculate, but by the end of the night (or, more accurately, early the next morning)
you end up drunk, wearing your tie around your head, clutching a nearly empty bottle of Captain Morgen's spiced rum, singing along to an AC/DC song, all with a wide grin on your face.
My mom and i went out to get me a suit, tie and pants. My shaagy hair was cut short, and my goatee trimmed and shortened. I looked as good as a slob like me could. Sean, the only one with propped ID, bought all the booze, and was enlisted to be designated driver. (Sorry Sean!)
We were all dressed up to the nines, and my mom snapped pictures of us. I told my mom I would be home late. We went the dinner at the Hellenic Greek Centre, and then
there was the dance. Dances have always given me an awkward feeling. I'm not the kind of guy who hates to dance per se, butI always feel like such a loser at these things, especially when I can't muster the courage to ask the girl I like to dance. So after a while, Aleks and I ducked out and started drinking in the parking lot, watching the stars come out. I started getting a good buzz on.
We went to the after party,which we call the main event. It was held outside at somebody's farm house. This was where the drinking began in earnest. Now, I won't lie. I got quite smashed that night. Consequently my memory of the party is spotty. I remember at some point stumbling around in the dark, and I dropped my mickey, fortunately with the lid on. Sean picked it up and gave it to me. I took a big swig and resumed stumbling around. Minutes later I dropped the mickey again. Sean picked it up again, and I took an even bigger swig. Mere seconds later I dropped the damn thing again, and this time Sean wisely kept it from me saying "you're cut off!"
At some point I went up to my old buddy Matt saying "I can't feel my face," slapping my face as I said it. I proceeded give tiny slaps to his face. He ever so gently gave me the back of his hand, causing me to fall to the ground, laughing all the way down.
I remember near the end of the night, I was lying in the back seat of Sean's car. Aleks was puking in the bushes, and the people in the car next to us were cranking up AC/DC's "You shook me all night long." I was like "Yeaaahh!!" nand the girl in the car, who obviously less drunk than I was, said "You like this song. Awesome!" It was almost as if she was talking to a child or someone with some kind mental deficiency. Well, the booze'll do that to you!
At around 5am we went home. The new day was dawning. I opened the door to my house and my mom was there, angry with me for beinghome so late.
"But mom," I said with a huge grin, "I told you I would be late." This has become a running gag in my household ever since.
All in all it was a good time.
"Just let it come up in conversation. Say 'I'd really like to get together some time. Maybe we could go for coffee?'"
I thanked him for the screwdriver and the advice, and I psyched myself up to ask her at any opportunity.
Well, for those reading expecting a happy end to this part of the story, I deliver now the bad news. I chickened out. Not just once but a number of times I talked to her and I just couldn't do it. Aleks' dad years later gave me the best advice regarding dating that could have helped me here. He said "Be honest and don't chicken out. Rejection is not the end of the world no matter how painful it seems at the time."
Graduations are funny things. You spend have the day trying to make yourself look immaculate, but by the end of the night (or, more accurately, early the next morning)
you end up drunk, wearing your tie around your head, clutching a nearly empty bottle of Captain Morgen's spiced rum, singing along to an AC/DC song, all with a wide grin on your face.
My mom and i went out to get me a suit, tie and pants. My shaagy hair was cut short, and my goatee trimmed and shortened. I looked as good as a slob like me could. Sean, the only one with propped ID, bought all the booze, and was enlisted to be designated driver. (Sorry Sean!)
We were all dressed up to the nines, and my mom snapped pictures of us. I told my mom I would be home late. We went the dinner at the Hellenic Greek Centre, and then
there was the dance. Dances have always given me an awkward feeling. I'm not the kind of guy who hates to dance per se, butI always feel like such a loser at these things, especially when I can't muster the courage to ask the girl I like to dance. So after a while, Aleks and I ducked out and started drinking in the parking lot, watching the stars come out. I started getting a good buzz on.
We went to the after party,which we call the main event. It was held outside at somebody's farm house. This was where the drinking began in earnest. Now, I won't lie. I got quite smashed that night. Consequently my memory of the party is spotty. I remember at some point stumbling around in the dark, and I dropped my mickey, fortunately with the lid on. Sean picked it up and gave it to me. I took a big swig and resumed stumbling around. Minutes later I dropped the mickey again. Sean picked it up again, and I took an even bigger swig. Mere seconds later I dropped the damn thing again, and this time Sean wisely kept it from me saying "you're cut off!"
At some point I went up to my old buddy Matt saying "I can't feel my face," slapping my face as I said it. I proceeded give tiny slaps to his face. He ever so gently gave me the back of his hand, causing me to fall to the ground, laughing all the way down.
I remember near the end of the night, I was lying in the back seat of Sean's car. Aleks was puking in the bushes, and the people in the car next to us were cranking up AC/DC's "You shook me all night long." I was like "Yeaaahh!!" nand the girl in the car, who obviously less drunk than I was, said "You like this song. Awesome!" It was almost as if she was talking to a child or someone with some kind mental deficiency. Well, the booze'll do that to you!
At around 5am we went home. The new day was dawning. I opened the door to my house and my mom was there, angry with me for beinghome so late.
"But mom," I said with a huge grin, "I told you I would be late." This has become a running gag in my household ever since.
All in all it was a good time.
posted by The Doctor at 6:20 PM
1 Comments:
Drinking in the parking lot... you make it sound so seedy.
Sitting on the grass under the summer stars, away from that teenage circus that we never really asked to be a part of... it was a peaceful moment in my life.
Much of what you described of the after-party, I do not remember, except amazingly enough that one AC/DC song, which reminds of that night still.
If you can't come home wasted the next morning from prom, then when CAN you?
My story ended in a similar way. My parents had an early start that morning to get ready for their garage sale. Mom looks out into the backyard and cries out to dad, "come quick, there's a man in the rhubarb... wait... I think it's Aleks."
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