Losing my Vodka virginity.

This isn't me. But if it was, then it would be.

Me:Hey alcohol.

Vodka:Hey there.

Me:Can I taste you?

Vodka:Yeh sure go crazy you underage bitch.

This small play I wrote summarises my first true encounter with vodka. A drink that is sometimes your friend, sometimes your enemy but always contains the risk you could have sex with a fat girl.

Gian and I arrive at a party at a rented out rugby club. We are only young but we immediately see the sign. £1 vodka shots, £1.50 for a double. We are sold, we rush to the bar and do a shot each, in such a naïve fashion we don’t understand digestion takes time… 10-12 shots later, after numerous doubles, and this is what happens:

9:30pm: We finish the shots.

9:31pm: I lose Gian.

9:35pm: I pass out on a chair.

10:27pm: I awake to force my friend to get me water.

10:27pm: He takes too long.

10:28pm: I leave stumbling down a corridor in true special olympics style. Half way down the corridor I realise I have to concentrate on my breathng. This is a bad sign.

10:29pm: Such a bad sign I need to lie down on this car bonnet and think about it.

10:30pm: I find gian!

10:30pm: Gian is on the other side of the car park throwing verbal and physical abuse at Henry our large friend.

10:32pm: Gian throws up.

I do not quite remember what happens next but I am now in a car going back to a friend’s house. I survive my first battle with vodka but I have learnt a great deal of its battle tactics and next time I will be better prepared. I will bring my armour, a mixer.