It was the middle of the summer and the evening was just beginning; I was hanging out with two people, lets call them "Steve" and "Mark", at Steve's house. We were planning to go see a show at the Ritz (I forgot what group was playing, but that is moot to this story anyway). We were waiting for another two people, lets call them "Nick" and "John" and then we would leave.

When they had finally showed up, it was too late to go see the show. Someone suggested that we pick up some alcohol and go hang out at a park. We picked up beer, wine coolers, Shambuka, Black Sabbath, Gallo, Jagier Miester, and a variety of other alcoholic beverages.

When we arrived at the park, it was fairly crowded. At first I was just going to taste a bit of everything, but had no real intention of drinking. I liked the taste of the Shambuka so I went back for more. After two or three swallows, Mark offered me the Black Sabbath, calling it "Nigger piss", and I tasted some, quickly spitting it out, accidently on his foot because of the rancid taste. He got mad and poured some all over me. I grabbed the bottle of Gallo and pretended I was going to throw the bottle at him and he ran off. At about this time, John offered me his Jagier Miester, saying that there was deer blood and opium in the ingredients. I tasted some; it tasted like cough syrup. While it was not so rancid that I spit it out, I did not drink anymore of it.

By this time I could feel the alcohol taking effect. I decided I would stop drinking for awhile. I found myself standing near a crowded table listening in on a conversation that I can not recall. At some point in time, I was inspired to try to get Mark back for spilling the Black Sabbath on me. My coordination was off and I failed miserably, getting it all over a girl's pocketbook. After many apologies, I wiped off her purse with my alcohol soked shirt, as if that would do any good.

Then I drank a bit more of the Shambuka since I got thirsty and my judgement was heavily impaired. Then Mark kept manipulating me into drinking more and more, by saying things like "You don't know how to drink". While with most people that would not work on me, Mark has a talent for manipulating people and before I knew it, I had emptied almost the whole bottle, soon to learn that it was 80 proof. I got pissed off at Mark and attacked him, which turned into a wrestling match. Neither of us won, since he could not pin down one of my shoulders and neither of us had the strength to continue. During the match, all the alcohol rushed to my brain. I can not remember anything for three hours (according to them) after the match.

The next thing I knew, I was feeling paranoid that they would leave me behind, so with a disorganized walk, I stumbled to Nick's car and jumped on the hood, grabbing the windshield wipers, and saying "Don't leave me". After a long struggle, they finally got me off and into the car. I don't recall the car trip home.

When they arrived at my house, they dragged me out of the car and up to the doorstep. For some unknown reason, Mark removed my watch and threw it on my lawn. They drove off making a lot of noise and my parents came out to see what the was happening. They saw me lying there drunk and dragged me inside.

After lying on the floor for I have no idea how long, I forced myself to go upstairs and get cleaned off. I washed up and went to bed.

I woke up late the next day with a tremendous hangover. I decided I would never drink again. While everyone told me I had a great time, I could not remember anything except the hangover and I saw no point in having a great time if you could not remember even that you had a great time and you would be left feeling like you would be better off dead.