Any bad stories
I once found out I was allergic to morphine.
I think the only two times I ever had too much to drink was when I was traveling, in Budapest and in Casablanca. Both places, I went out with friends for the evening, and realized at closing time that I had no idea where the place was where I was staying or even what it was called,. So I started walking, and (my memory is very foggy about this) somehow wandered through back streets and stumbled right into it. To this day, I have no idea whatsoever how I found my way back.
High school, probably 10th grade, give or take a year. Party in someone’s basement, their parents absent, negligent, and/or clueless. Someone walks in with a box full of bottles of strawberry Cisco. Nothing good happens.
If you know what Cisco is, I don’t need to go on. I’m sure there are millions of people who can tell this exact story.
I’m fairly certain I was there. A few times. I’ll save my “worst” story for tomorrow when I’m on a real keyboard.
During my first 3 years of high school I had a horrible problem with alcohol. 
But then I turned 18, no more problem. I could get it whenever I wanted! 
Abuse from alcoholics.
Not myself, but people I was close to. Back in college, in the '60s, I had a very close friend/roommate who was an assistant professor, one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever encountered. She was a heavy drug user and eventual dealer. She got busted, and while awaiting trial, skipped bail. She changed her identity and went underground, probably wound up as a biker chick. Totally ruined what could have been a spectacular life.
And then there’s my best friend/coworker in the '80s and '90s. Also a brilliant mind, but a heavy drinker. Drank himself to death at 50.
College, 1983. UCSB (Santa Barbara), with the campus right along the ocean, it was a bonfire party on the beach. Too much alcohol for me, I didn’t get sick but I lost my common sense, and a sober and too loose girl (Mary B_r_en, are you still out there?) who had a crush on me but I didn’t have one on her. By the morning I wished I hadn’t had so much to drink. Wished we hadn’t gone so far, so fast.
You can’t go back to holding hands when things have gone too far. What’s worse is, she turned out to have serious problems and, in the words of her former boyfriend when I later realized she had issues and so I asked him, was a total nut case.
Ortega Dining Commons, UCSB, early 1980s; Jay and Mary B_r_en (before that party), and then later Mary B_r_en and me. Great. Trouble. What a bad scene. I hope she is okay now and that she has processed her complex issues.
Too much alcohol. Never again. Ever.
- It was summer and Crosby, Stills, Nash, & Young were playing a stadium concert. I was 15, my buddy was 16. We got tickets, and figured there wouldn’t be any problem walking in the gate with a backpack with 4 quart bottles of Pabst Blue Ribbon in it. When we found out they weren’t allowing backpacks in, we went back to his van (hey, it was the '70s) and blasted the beer. Wet Willie was opening and when we heard the music, we doubled down.
Before Wet Willie left the stage, I was spinning so bad that I had to go to the “nose-bleed” section just to find air. That didn’t work, so I had to go the bathroom to puke my guts out. Even that didn’t help. I remember sitting in the hall and someone came up to me and said, “hey, man, you aren’t the one selling reds, are you. If you are, the cops are after you.” I wandered around some more and ended up on a “TV platform”, one of those non-seating areas of the stadium where they put TV cameras during games. I just crashed there, waiting or CSN&Y to take the stage. I remember at one point, someone put their hand on my face and said, “yeah, he’s still alive”.
By the time the main show started, I was awake and saw the entire show. I never saw my buddy at any time. After it was over, I made myself out to the van and found my buddy. He said he left before CSN&Y took the stage and spent the entire show in his van. I guess that means I won.
I never did find the guy selling the reds.
Probably a bad Robo-Tripping experience, dxm the cough suppressant in Robitussin is a dissociative and I felt like I was completely disconnected from reality for at least 12 hours, felt like I was playing myself third person in a video game, lots of hallucinations and the next morning it was like I was doing the Charlie Manson word salad thing just couldn’t talk straight and saying crazy things, I didn’t feel normal again for days. It wasn’t my first time nor the last there was maybe one or two times after but I can safely say those days are behind me.
I was taking a small dose of a tricyclic antidepressant, because these were prescribed for bladder problems before Detrol came on the market. They do not mix with dextromethorphan, the cough suppressant in Delsym. The very young PA who prescribed an antibiotic for me for a cough and sinus infection for me at an acute care clinic did not know this, because tricyclics have been uncommon since Prozac and the drugs that followed it came on the market.
I also had been having trouble sleeping because I was so congested, so the PA gave me three days worth of Ambien. I took Ambien once before when I was taking steroids that make it difficult to sleep and didn’t have a problems with it.
I’d taken a decongestant the night before, and the PA said to continue what I’d been doing for my pretty bad sinus infection, by which I understood to go ahead and take decongestants again, but she probably just meant to use steam and sleep propped up.
So, that night, at bedtime, which was very early, because I was exhausted from being sick and not having slept much the night before (DH, I should note, was in Iraq at the time), I took the following: Delsym, desipramine, Ambien, erythromycin, and Sudafed. I didn’t fall asleep, I passed out. I came to with no sense of time having passed, but it was summer, and light out. I’d gone to bed at 7, and the clock read 9, and it was light out, and I thought “My gawd, I was out for 14 hours?” Well, no, I was out for 2 hours, but by the time I’d made a cup of coffee, and processed what time it actually was, I was walking around in a dream-like state. I kept thinking that one of the dogs wanted to go out and buy new rugs for the living room. I tried to go back to bed, but by then, I had coffee on board.
I decided to write an article for this local paper I sometimes wrote for. It was something about computer obsolescence and Barbie dolls. I wrote about 1 1/2 semi-coherent pages in 3 hours. Then I watched few Law & Order reruns, and tried to have conversations with the characters in the show.
I somehow took the dogs out to pee without incident, and made myself a Peanut butter sandwich, because at this point, I’d figured out that I was non compos, and cooking would be very, very bad. I passed out on the couch with an unchewed bite of sandwich in my mouth. Woke up again all paranoid, about six hours later. Brushed my teeth, and read a few pages of several different books, but every single one contributed to my paranoia. Finally settled on a children’s book. Fell asleep again for a few more hours, and woke up feeling relatively normal. Ate something. Didn’t have to work until 1pm, and hoped I’d be sober enough to drive by that time.
16 years old, on vacation in Tucson, AZ. To make a long story short, I was on a “moonlight horseride” with a group up the mountainside to a campground where we barbecued steaks. I got snockered for the first and only time in my life. I started off with Colt 45 and ended up with pink lemonade and Southern Comfort.
When we got back to the riding stable, I went out to one of the corrals, took my glasses off and set them down, then held my head under the water supply, which was ice-cold artesian. When I got back to the hotel, I thought I managed to pull it off in fooling my parents.
Woke up the next morning with the mother of all hangovers. Put my glasses on and everything was dark. When I took them off and looked at them, I realized that I must have put them down in a horse turd while soaking my head, because the lenses were covered in horse shit.
Yes - I had been literally shit-faced drunk. Never touched the stuff since then.
What do you mean by too loose? Are you implying she had too much sex so that her vagina was no longer tight? B/c along w/ being a horrible thing to say about someone that you have no right to judge, it’s also medically inaccurate and shows a longstanding and glaring ignorance. I hope you didn’t pass this nonsense on to any kids you’ve had, sounds like you were a poor enough friend to Mary in taking advantage of her feelings when you felt like it and judging her sex life when you weren’t part of it.
I tried to outdrink a boyfriend w/ Goldschlager. Massive fail and even missed a day of work to do a hangover for the first and last time.
Was given a cough syrup w/ Codeine and mistook 2 tsp for 2 Tbsp; I chugged a bunch of water once I realized my error. That was a weird 6-8 hours.
Worst experience was taking the SAT test while coming down off some pretty good acid …
In year 11 at high school when I was 17, went to the year 12 (final year) breakup party at a farm.
I was having a few beers, no big deal, then someone offered me a rocket fuel. They had a bunch of bottles of different spirits, so this person mixed up a half dozen different spirits into a plastic cup and put a splash of coke on top for colour. Pretty much 200ml of mixed spirits.
Not having much experience with spirits, I knocked it down in one swallow and asked for another. Then another. Then another.
Got a bit loose after that, well and truly in party mode. Wasn’t till I got home and laid down in bed that it went pear shaped. As soon as I lay down, the world started spinning and I projectile vomited straight up in the air.
Dad heard the noise and came in, rolled me out of bed onto the floor and cleaned up but geez I felt crook next day and my mother, having zero sympathy for self inflicted wounds, stood over me while I forced down the breakfast she made and sent me off to school. (how I kept that breakfast down for the 40 minute bus trip I have no idea but it came up pretty much as soon as I got there.) Hangover lasted 2 days and it was at least another week before I could touch a beer.
I haven’t had too many bad experiences. Just the usual hangover stuff, and those are rare nowadays since I don’t drink nearly as much now that I’m older. But one time that sticks in my memory was back in West Texas and I got stood up for a date. I was so pissed off I proceeded to drink a fifth of peppermint schnapps my roommate and I had at home. I finished the whole fifth over the course of a night. Began puking mightily, and let me tell you, puking up peppermint schnapps is Hell on Earth. I could never drink the stuff again. Even regular schnapps gave me the shivers for the longest time.
Also back in West Texas, I had one incident of actually being carried out of a bar. I’d smoked some really strong weed with friends, then we all went to our regular dive bar and proceeded to down pitchers of beer. All of a sudden, the whole world turned into a photographic negative, then I was flat on my back. My friends carried me out and to home. This was a really sleazy place, and this sort of thing was common. I doubt anyone gave me a second look.
Ah, I can’t believe I forgot this. The drinking age in Texas when I was 16 was 18, and I looked 18 to many people. I even had a fake ID that really looked fake, but back then clerks didn’t care too much, especially not in “package stores,” which sold only beer and wine. Liquor stores were only a tiny bit more difficult. And sales inside my hometown were illegal back then, so all the stores were lined up to the south of town along what was known as the Strip.
I went to the Strip for wine one night, but I didn’t know diddly-squat about wine, I was only 16. So I ended up buying a gallon jug of some cheap rotgut, Joe’s Wine or something like that, thinking this was a super deal. Went home and drank it in my room. In the wee hours of the morning, my parents were awakened by the sound of me violently puking in my bed. My father got me into the bathroom and kept trying to get me to puke into a plastic basin, yelling, “Hold this! Can you hear me? HOLD THIS, I SAID!!!” while I just sort of flopped around like a rag doll. He made me go to school the next morning, and I ended up having to go puke during first period. Then during second period. Then I decided to lie down in the nurse’s office, where I puked some more. They finally called my father to come get me. Went home and puked some more. Called in sick to my part-time restaurant job that night.
That was the time I learned you should never drink a gallon of cheap rotgut wine.
Ha, I was an alcoholic. Do you want the worst 50 times or just the worst 10?
I was slipped a hit of acid while working a grave yard shift while in the Navy. Began to freak out, the guy that gave it to me tried to keep me calm. Spent most of the night locked in a store room, finally started feeling normal about 6 am. Showed up at quarters looking like crap. Fortunately had the next 3 days off. Never saw the guy that slipped me the acid again.