Happy Sober Saint Patrick’s Day!

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This used to always be one of my favorite holidays. Right along with New Year’s Eve, Halloween, and my birthday. All big drinking days! I would work Easter, Mothers and Fathers Day, and Christmas if I could be off those other days. But even if I had to work, I would schedule an alternative day to celebrate. And get drunk.

I now hope to think of this day as a holiday to celebrate my Irish heritage. But without Guinness, Baileys, and Jamesons.

Mistake #50- I found my junior year prom date on MySpace. I haven’t seen him since I graduated high school 13 years before this. We were platonic friends when he went to my prom with me. I was a good girl back then. Now here we were both adults and living in the same area. He invited me out with his friends for St Patrick’s day.

I remember being so nervous meeting up with him. I was such a dork in high school. He was too. But I really wanted to make a good impression on him. I wanted him to see that I was no longer a dork. I wanted him to think I improved. I was now cool.

He stood outside the bar on his phone giving me directions. He thought I was coming from a different way down the street. He had his back turned towards me as I walked up and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and looked gorgeous. I thought of the ugly duckling story. He did not look like the nerdy, soccer player I used to know. He was now a handsome man. I was shaking when he hugged me. He asked if I was cold. I admitted that I was nervous. He said “then let’s get started drinking!”

He kept complimenting me. He told me I looked hot. I “filled out nice.” I blushed a lot. He said that according to my MySpace profile, I turned wild. The quiet girl who was on so many high school committees was now a party girl. There were a lot of photos of me chugging booze online. It was sort of my signature photo. Chugging a bottle of beer. Chugging a bottle of Champagne. Chugging a bottle of wine. Always a glass or cup in my hand. He said he wanted to see this party girl. I told him “no, you don’t want to see her.” He kept buying me shots.

His friends were all welcoming. Turns out, he was going through a divorce. His friends hated the wife. They wanted me to help him get his mind off of her. They kept buying me shots. My beers never neared empty because someone was always making sure I had a refill.

The night got blurry. The subway stopped running back to my house at some point. One of his friends invited me to stay at his place in the city. Prom Date also lived in the suburbs and since it was too late to drive, he would stay there too. I remember some blond girl that I got along with well. I think she worked for Planned Parenthood headquarters or something. I think she was dating the friend who invited us both to stay on his pull out bed in the living room. I remember her saying “use condoms!” and put some in my hand. I remember making out with Prom Date on the couchbed. I had my shirt off. And then he stopped and said he couldn’t go through with this. He was still in love with his wife. I started crying.

He drove me home instead. I cried the whole way. I kept saying “sorry. I’m so sorry.” I am not sure what I was sorry for? Things never took off for us. I didn’t see him again until the summer and he was either still not over his wife or was just not into a drunk, party girl.

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