Ironically enough, my fellow WTFers, in my only two adventures with the wonders of alcohol I have already been busted. That's right, busted. You see, after I wrote the second story I got an offer to finish off some extra bacardis with a friend who had been ditched by well...virtually everyone that night. So I decided, why the hell not.
We go to where we usually do, a vacant parking lot, a mere 50 feet from my backyard. We sit down, have one each, maybe, and he starts feeling bad. So we head back to my house to get some food and water, and calm his stomach down.
Soon enough, we head back out to finish whatever we want and head home, and a cop car rolls up OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE. My friend starts booking it, but I tell him to stop and wait for the officer...because running from the cops would obviously make the incident much more grandiose and painful. Of course we get the patdown, and the officer learns that I'm actually 17, and my friend is only 18. And thus, we are taken home and my parents find out what I was doing. The officer was nice though, and decided not to charge either of us because we cooperated and didn't evade. Nor did we have any illegal things on us either...besides the alcohol we had before.
So yeah, drinking is bad. I can't believe how incredibly unlucky I am, that a cop just showed up in this seemingly vacant parking lot, and now I pay the price for being a delinquent. They have my SSN on file and my name jotted down...so if I fuck up anymore before I'm 21, I'll be fucked for life.
It sucks. I want a hug. Of course my parents are pissed off like a bee hive being poked repeatedly with a flaming stick covered in shit-sauce. But they do acknowledge that they were also teenagers once. But they still call me a "dumbass" and I feel like I'm not even comfortable at home anymore. The only place I can go is in my car and just sit there, soaking in the depressing gloom that is my inner emo-chi seeping out during a crisis.
Fucking a.
We go to where we usually do, a vacant parking lot, a mere 50 feet from my backyard. We sit down, have one each, maybe, and he starts feeling bad. So we head back to my house to get some food and water, and calm his stomach down.
Soon enough, we head back out to finish whatever we want and head home, and a cop car rolls up OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE. My friend starts booking it, but I tell him to stop and wait for the officer...because running from the cops would obviously make the incident much more grandiose and painful. Of course we get the patdown, and the officer learns that I'm actually 17, and my friend is only 18. And thus, we are taken home and my parents find out what I was doing. The officer was nice though, and decided not to charge either of us because we cooperated and didn't evade. Nor did we have any illegal things on us either...besides the alcohol we had before.
So yeah, drinking is bad. I can't believe how incredibly unlucky I am, that a cop just showed up in this seemingly vacant parking lot, and now I pay the price for being a delinquent. They have my SSN on file and my name jotted down...so if I fuck up anymore before I'm 21, I'll be fucked for life.
It sucks. I want a hug. Of course my parents are pissed off like a bee hive being poked repeatedly with a flaming stick covered in shit-sauce. But they do acknowledge that they were also teenagers once. But they still call me a "dumbass" and I feel like I'm not even comfortable at home anymore. The only place I can go is in my car and just sit there, soaking in the depressing gloom that is my inner emo-chi seeping out during a crisis.
Fucking a.