Today is your lucky day, folks, because you’re going to get a triple-dose of super bad decisions.
When I was 17 years old, I was a weird (read: awesome) kid. My group of friends was an eclectic circle of sexually active marching band nerds, skateboarder bums, punkrock wannabes, rave freaks, self-righteous mock-UN members, and JV athletes (let’s be clear that I was Varsity, however). It was a damn wild ride—that’s for sure.
One part of my group of friends for a while had taken over—the punkrockers. This was such an exciting time in my life because this is when I started learning how to lie about “staying over my girlfriend’s house” when I would really go to garage parties. It was 12th grade and I was a late bloomer. My parents were military for crimony sake.
At one of these “garage parties,” I had met a guy that was half/half Hawaiian and Native American respectively. He used to brag about gathering free money from the government (about $1000/month) because of his Native American background and then would spend it frivolously on whatever drugs he could get his hands on. I actually did not know this when I first started to date the guy because I was so naïve, but later I discovered he was quite the coke-head. Regardless, I met him at this party, thought he was “so cool” and dangerous and it was all very enthralling for me—the goofy-as-hell 17 year old senior in HS with military brat background and wanting so badly to break the proverbial ‘goodie tooshoes’ mold (sp?).
This guy used to take me everywhere and it was so exciting. I met all kinds of people—most of them much older than me as him and I had a 6-year age gap—and even got to go to Hollyweird a few times. Everything was pretty f*cking fun until sh*t got a little till real after a few red flags.
Red Flag #1 – Meeting my father in an antichrist shirt
One weekend when he was going to take me to Hollywood to go to Amoeba Records and Universal City Walk, he showed up to my parent’s house in ripped jeans and a “Kill Jesus” t-shirt. My conservative, military parents were really thrilled about that one and I am sure they felt comfortable sending me off to Hollywood with the guy, too. In fact, my dad was so upset he threw a pan across the room and I stormed out before he could keep me home. It was the first time this 4.5 GPA honors student ever really broke the parental “trap.” And I was terrified the whole time after that, not only at coming home to my steaming father, but to all the crazy sh*t this guy was spewing on the way to Hollywood about being addicted to cocaine for four years and getting too skinny. Whoa… I liked the “idea” of you being a punkrocker, but please don’t heat up a spoon while I’m in the car with you…
Red Flag #2 – “I just have to stop by a friend’s house”
When we were on our way to a friend’s house for a 4th of July party out in the middle of butt-f*ck-Egypt USA (also known as “the boondocks”) he said he needed to stop by a friend’s house. I was really naïve at the time and didn’t really understand this encounter. We had never hung out with this person, he’d never mentioned her name before, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t cheating on me because he called me for hours every…single…night…and, I don’t know, something was not adding up. Yeah, I was sure it was a drug deal and was very anxious after that interlude.
Red Flag #3 – Stealing from his employer and then trying to come onto me afterward
Working was not something this guy really liked to do that much but he needed a “real” job. After a night of telling me that he could see music notes coming out of some speakers, which was alarming (not so much now knowing what I know), I was a little on edge. I ended up calling him and asking him to meet me after work. He took all day to call me back and when he did it was to tell me that he had been fired for “taking” something from work. WHO STEALS FROM WORK? Lunatic. Still, I was so enamored with this guy that I idiotically waited until later for him to come over and talk to me. My parents were out of town for the weekend and so like any good ol’ teenager, I threw a party. While my party was going on downstairs, I went upstairs—wasted—with him to talk about the unfortunately series of events. I recall saying something like “WTF is wrong with you, you’re better than that” and him saying something like “let’s get a little Hawaiin in you.” After that I kicked everyone out, including him after her helped me cleanup—it was the least he could do—and never spoke to him again after that for a long time.
THREE STRIKES, YOU’RE OUT! Man, for a girl that was a straight-A student and on her way to a good college education, I sure was stupid for getting myself into this mess. Several years later when I had gone off to college and had come back to visit old friends, he was still there in the same house (his mom’s, where he did not even have a real door, it was strings of beads) and lame town—now living with some drug-addicted, knocked-up girlfriend—and living off the government. WOW! You are sure doing well, mister. Can you say, “dodged a bullet!?”
The point is that we all make mistakes, or rather learn valuable lessons, when we’re young and rebellious. I, for one, am really happy to have made that mistake…and several others in life…so that I could learn from them. But man I tell ya, sometimes you feel like you just learn in the worse possible way!
Stay Sozzled, my friends!