I was reading this when I decided to elaborate a little on some of the dumb things I have done in the company of alcohol.
I have a brother that is 2 and 1/2 years older than me. After he turned 16, he and his best buddy Bill used to go out cruising. I usually whined and begged to along. Often my mom made the older boys take me. Sometimes Bill would say I could come.
In the summer before my freshman year of High School we started drinking beer on these evenings out. We would get a six pack and head to the drive-in movie. Usually those six beers would get us each a little buzz. Gradually it would take more (Now I wish I could get a buzz from 2 beers -- you cannot buy a case of beer for $6 anymore!).
When he was a Senior in High School, Bill had me write his Government and history papers. As a reward he took me to qualifications for the Indy 500. This was before the Indy car split when the race was the biggest sporting event in the world. Tens of thousands would come just to watch practice and qualifications. We routinely skipped school to go to the track just to watch cars practice. Daytona has speed week, Indy had the entire month of May.
Inside the first turn was what was known as "the snake pit". This was an area of perpetual party. You could see and experience ANYTHING here. At the end of the day there was always at least one old car on fire. Couches, kegs and smashed coolers would litter the always muddy ground.
We arrived bright and early. We headed straight for the snake pit. It was raining, so we drove around in the mud for a while, doing doughnuts. Eventually we made our way to the stands where Bill broke out a bottle of Southern Comfort. This was my payment. I think we mixed it with Coke, but I also remember taking some direct pulls off the bottle.
At one point I headed for the restrooms. There was a sight I remember to this day. A biker had this girl down in the mud and was fucking her for all he was worth. He was dressed , his pants pulled down. She was buck naked. He was pounding away, looking around at the crowd that had formed with a shit-eating grin on his face. She just lay there, her breast moving up and down in rhythm to his thrusts. You have to remember I was like 14 or 15. This was awesome!
Eventually, I headed back to the booze. I made a fateful mistake, I thought you could drink whiskey like beer. Namely, drink until you get a good buzz, then quit. Big mistake. OMG, was I drunk. I passed out. I fell in the mud. I was sick. I passed out again. I was in terrible shape. Bill had to drive me around for hours before he could take me home.
To this day I cannot stand the sight, smell, or taste of whiskey, bourbon, or scotch. If I try to drink it, I immediately puke. I cannot even eat food cooked in whiskey. This is the ultimate example of what I learned in Psych 101 as a "learned taste aversion". But man, what good times we had.