The first alcohol I had ever given up was gin.
I will tell you why.
It all happened one shitty, Saturday night in the ghetto of Long Beach. I was picked up by my favorite ginger, Red.
We headed out to go bar hopping fairly early in the evening, we had a few stops to make that night.
My drink of choice, Gin and tonic. I had probably twelve or maybe fifteen that night.
I was an alcoholic.
Our first stop: bar one. We parked and walked inside. There sitting at the bar was our friend Betty!
Thats a lie.
Betty was not sitting at the bar. Betty was passed out cold. Her head rested on the bar in a puddle of drool.
Red and I did what any good friends would do. We bought ourselves drinks, laughed and toasted to Betty! Before we did the right thing and drove her home.
While we were on our way to unload our loaded friend, a car cut us off. Red slammed on the breaks.
Thats when we heard it.
CLUNK! CLUNK! CLUNK!
Something slammed into my ankle!
“What the hell?” Red asked?
I looked under my seat and rolling around were cans of cheap beer! I looked back at Betty. She was still asleep but her purse had spilled out!
That bitch just snuck a damn case of beer into the bar!
We got her home and headed to bar number two. Once inside I started ordering my gin and tonics. I was downing them pretty fast.
Two white trash men in dirty shirts and mullet hair cuts (they had probably been wearing both since the 80’s) approached us and challenged us to a game.
“If you buy us drinks first, bubba!”
I drunkenly slurred.
“What are we playing for? Your trailer?”
Thats where my memory ends.
I woke up the next day to a knock on my door. It was Red.
I dragged my naked, half-dead ass out of bed, wrapped on a towel and let her in. She had a bag of, rum, mint, lime….she was making mojitos!
Damn do I love that bitch!
“I’m glad to see you made it home! I was worried about you!”
Red handed me my bra. I gave her a confused look. She started laughing her ass off.
“What? Why are you laughing?”
“I see you met your new neighbors! I was just talking to them.” Red said.
“No, I haven’t met them.” I responded.
Red grabbed her gut in hysterical laughter.
Red handed me a mojito.
“Oh my God!” She spit out.
Red literally laughed until mojito was running out of her freckled, ginger nose.
Then she told me the story.
We lost our game of pool to the toothless truckers the night before.
One of them wanted a kiss.
So, I did what any drunken skank would do.
I made out with a mullet man.
For an hour.
Red finally dragged me home. At least she tried. We were three blocks away from my apartment when it happened.
Stopped, at a red light, I jumped out of red’s car and down an ally. Red tried to stop me, then she drove around half the night looking for me to no avail.
Running, I had passed through the ally and onto a major intersection. There I removed my shirt and flung it. I passed down another block, removed my skirt and dropped it. I rounded my street and discarded my panties. I made it to my front porch and in front of my new neighbors, took off bra and fell,
UP MY STAIRS.
The two little asian girls that just moved in below me watched me in shock.
One of them asked me if I was OK.
Thats when it happened.
In my drunken state, I stood up, grabbed my purse and threw it at her. Then I said,
“Come on bitch! Lets go! I’ll kick your yellow ass!”
Now, this WAS Long Beach after all! Turns out the sisters were drinking too.
One of the girls lunged toward me. She was ready to attack!
Her sister grabbed her and pulled her inside just in time to save my sloshed, stupid ass.
I made it inside and passed out.
They were outside that morning when red arrived. They gleefully told her the story.
I ended up gifting them a bottle of Jack not long after that as an apology. We became great friends.
Mullet guy called and left me messages for a good week after our spit exchange before giving up. I dont remember giving him my number either! I’m pretty happy that I didn’t catch mono.
I never drank gin again.
Red still talks about this. It was her idea that I write about it today, actually.
Right now she is laughing.
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