Bad Decisions make Good Stories

Being young, youthful and frankly naïve, I regret a few things in my life. It’s ridiculous really. I’m eighteen, I should be going out drinking, having flings; eating whatever I want. But alas, I’ve turned into a 50 year old woman, lying in bed at 10 O’ clock with my glasses on and my eyes glued to whatever documentary happened to take my fancy, falling asleep before the end of the hour long program is up.

You will make mistakes in your life. It’s inevitable really, but what makes a mistake is you regretting it. Many of my ‘mistakes’ involve alcohol and intoxication of some type.

At age 16, I was slightly smaller, somewhat idiotic and a lot more reckless and that’s really saying something as I am still spontaneous or as some say, crazy and hope to continue to be for the remainder of my life. But 16 year old me liked to drink Vodka. Cheap old Vodka. Image

One particular night, although I don’t remember it well, many of my friends seem to recall it as October 7th 2011, a group of girls and I were going out to celebrate one of my best friend’s birthday, 17th in fact. We were all grown up now and had our ways of finding alcohol and if it’s there, why not drink it! Oh how little I knew. If only in hindsight I could retake my steps, really find out where it went wrong; stop myself from being quite so insanely stupid.

In a matter of thirty minutes I had managed to drink a litre of Vodka straight. An hour later, once at the venue of the party, crying in a bathroom to a woman I had never met, I was presented a huge three litre bottle containing, yet again more Vodka. I managed to drink half of this bottle and even now I’m shuddering at the thought. After this fantastic act, showing of my gag reflex threshold (cheeky) it would be a godlike achievement to say I remembered the rest of the night but I, being a mere mortal did not. I have been told the following.

I was at some point locked in the toilet. I pulled down the skirt of  a best friend in the middle of a crowded room. I was pushed over on the floor and unable to get up alone. I was escorted outside and drank a questionable liquid. I was then kicked out of the venue. After all this I was then dragged out of the birthday party, given different shoes and taken into town. At one point I whispered nakedness. The nightmare ended up with myself being horrifically ill down by an alley, given a stranger’s coat and my parents being called at two in the morning to pick me up.


Now, with such consequences as not being allowed out till New year and gaging every 

time I smelt strong cleaner,I can safely say I regret drinking so much so young. But with that in mind, the stranger who gave me his coat, he is a huge part of this story for me.

This was the first time I met Adam, my current boyfriend of nine months. They always do say first impressions are the most important, so I really must have stuck out in his mind. I think it also proves his kind of character when he sees a paralytic sixteen year old girl, vomiting constantly on herself, saying nakedness every so often not to mention how indecent clothing wise I looked and thought “Yeah, I want to hit that up”.

Almost two years on, it’s still a laughing point for my friends and embarrasses me to the inner abyss of my soul, but in order to make up for this terribly degrading black spot on my almost squeaky clean alcohol record, I have helped my friends in their time of need. And god, have to paid my dues.


Be it walking/dragging an intoxicated girl home, holding someone’s sick in a taxi in order not to be charged or sitting on a pavement for two hours trying to sober someone up, my debts are paid.

Bad decisions make good stories, whether the outcome is good or regrettable is questionable. So whether you’re covered in vomit or holding other people’s, just remember you’ll be telling the story one day to a load of people and someone will laugh.

You might even embarrass yourself and do something stupid like write it on a blog or something.

Inspired by Mike Falzone:


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