Background:
It was Wednesday.
On Wednesday nights around 8:00pm, I usually drink beer and sing karaoke with my friends at the local restobar — usually until the place closes after midnight.
But on this particular Wednesday, I did something different.
At 6:30pm, I felt like getting a run in before meeting my buddies later.
While running and listening to an interesting audiobook, I kinda lost track of time. Before I knew it, my watch’s display showed that I had been running for over an hour.
That’s when I thought it best to turn around immediately and head back home.
I returned home at 8:20pm to find my barely-legal-drinking-age daughter with some of her friends dancing in the living room, taking selfies, and drinking my Rhum.
Everyone froze in their tracks when they saw me.
They looked like a bunch of department store mannequins that some lame employee had displayed in a totally unnatural or ridiculously awkward pose.
I wanted to bust out laughing, but didn’t want to “break character”.
(Most normal parents who discover that a party was going on in their own living room without their knowledge would be quite perturbed, to say the least.)
To me, it really wasn’t such a big deal. But I didn’t want them to know that just yet.
Methodically, in “Spock-like fashion”; that is, with one eyebrow up, I stared at each person directly in the eye.
(BTW, you can’t stare directly into both eyes of anyone. Try it. It’s impossible.)
Upon making eye contact, most of them had their mouths open, looking completely guilty. A couple seconds later, they immediately turned their gaze to the floor.
The only exception was my daughter. I think she knew I was just jerking all of their chains a bit. But she played along quietly.
Judging by their expressions and actions, I guess they thought I was pretty angry.
Someone turned off the music. Many began cleaning up and carrying their half-full glasses to the kitchen sink.
When they started gathering up their belongings, I said, “Y’all don’t have to spoil your fun just because I’m here.”
There was an audible “group sigh”.
“In fact, after a quick shower, I’m back out the door to the restobar downtown. If you want to stay, I only have two rules: #1. My daughter is in charge and responsible for all that happens. Period. If anyone doesn’t do what she says, I will instantly hear about it. And believe me, if I have to come home early, I will be royally pissed! Understand me?”
(Silent nods from everyone.)
I finished with, “And rule #2. You break it, you bought it!”
I turned to my daughter and she gave me a thumbs up. And with big smiles, everyone else gave me a thumbs up too.
At the restobar, I received a text from my daughter: “Some of my friends asked if it was okay to sleep over. Is it OK?”
I texted back: “Fine with me, but same rules apply. It’s up to you. Oh, and BTW, make sure it’s okay with their parents first. Have fun and be safe. I should be home a little after midnight. I think? Love you, Dad.”
I woke up the next morning to the sound of the girls in the restroom “praying to the porcelain God”.
It was sort of a surreal sight.
All three of them were kneeling around the toilet bowl like it was a sacred alter.
As if on cue, one by one, each of them would take turns hugging the toilet bowl and puke violently enough to produce tears.
Then there was the mad grab for someone else’s T-shirt to use as a makeshift barf rag!
Ironically, in the moments when they weren’t heaving, they still managed to poke and giggle at each other.
(Strange bonding ritual, no?)
“Everyone going to live?,” I asked.
All of them, including the one currently with her head down the toilet, gave me a thumbs up.
As I walked to the kitchen to make my morning coffee, I thought of my youth; particularly, the first time I felt like those who were currently having a vomit-fest in my daughter’s bathroom.
Source
Even at 56+ y/o, I can still remember the first time I got drunk.
I was about 12 and a half y/o and working (illegally) as a busboy for a catering service that was hired for a wedding.
After the event was over and the guests went home, I and the other staff found a couple of overlooked, unopened crates of very expensive Champagne!
(I remember thinking, “Expensive? This tastes like ginger ale.”)
Not wanting to be a coward and of course, also trying to conceal my age, I joined the rest of the staff in consuming all that “Choice Alcohol”.
Unfortunately, the next morning I found myself extremely hungover, in church, and listening to my Dad delivering the Sunday sermon.
(Thank the Lord Buddha that I was far enough away from the pulpit that he didn’t see me.)
I spent the whole time either leaning forward with my forehead buried into the back of the front pew or hugging the back of mine — all the while popping tic-tac breath mints into my mouth and thinking — no wishing. that I would pass out, puke, or die!
My mother thought I was just sick with the flu and would affectionately rub my back every few minutes.
Seated on my right was my older sister.
Knowing that I was not sick, but simply hungover from working the wedding, she took much pleasure in viciously (and repeatedly) kicking my ankle whenever she thought I was going to doze off!
My ankle was black and blue for over a week.
I don’t know how, but I made it through that service and the afternoon without throwing up on anybody.
And in spite of my lifelong insomnia, I believe that I slept like a baby that night…
Imagine that?
By JaiChai
About the Author
Believing that school was too boring, he dropped out of High School early; only to earn an AA, BS and MBA in less than 4 years much later in life — while working full-time as a Navy/Marine Corps Medic.
In spite of a fear of heights and deep water, he performed high altitude, free-fall parachute jumps and hazardous diving ops in deep, open ocean water.
After 24 years of active duty, he retired in Asia.
Since then, he’s been a full-time, single papa and actively pursuing his varied passions (Writing, Disruptive Technology, Computer Science and Cryptocurrency — plus more hobbies too boring or bizarre for most folk).
He lives on an island paradise with his teenage daughter, longtime girlfriend and three dogs.
“My mind was a terrible thing to waste…” — JaiChai
Originally published at https://steemit.com on July 14, 2019.
