I had always thought that
drinking was a silly idea. To me, it characterized the
superficiality of the lives of the people I went to
high school with. Every Monday, without change, I would eavesdrop on their conversations as they discussed the "wild" weekends they had drinking and cavorting like
fools. Since I had no desire to be like them in any way I vowed not to do the same thing.
Curiosity is only natural I suppose.
My senior year of high school a friend of mine decided to throw an "end of the year" party at his house. Yes, there was going to be alcohol, but I didn't care because it was arranged as a gathering of people I already knew. Around eight o' clock groups of teenagers started showing up- some of which I knew from my elementary school days and hadn't seen in years including one of my main tormentors from days gone by. The party goes on and soon begins to escalate out of control. Things break. People fight. All of my previous notions on drinking were being validated before my eyes. I go outside to be alone for a while and find the aforementioned past tormentor on the lawn breaking my friend's lamppost. What happened next I can only attribute to the fact that I did have a few shots of vodka earlier to know for myself what it was like. I confronted him and asked him his reasons for breaking the lamp. His answer: "cause I hate these fuckin' Arabs." Argh!! I hate stupidity!! My anger escalates as he goes on to remind me of what great friends we are and how "cool" I always was to him. Condescending bastard. I've had enough now. I take out my nifty little boot knife (I don't know why I used to carry this, but I did) and, in the flat voice of a sociopath, tell him how much I hated him for everything he has done and how, if I had a little less self control, I would kill him on the spot. Being drunk as he was, he laughed this off, but I saw him drive away shortly after.
Reeling from the shock of what I had just done, I returned to the party just in time to see one of my good friends collapse in a vomitous heap. I spent the rest of the night in the back of a friend's car with his head in my lap- preventing him from passing out and suffocating. I got home at 5:30 am- freezing and covered in drying vomit.
So that is why I don't drink. I don't necessarily have a problem with others doing it, but I think that moderation is the key.