Well… what can I say, it wasn’t anything special. Growing up everyone always hyped up the tradition of “YOUR 21ST BIRTHDAY!” and how it is a wonderful coming of age event. When in reality it is nothing but over priced shots, a lot of throw up, and a hangover that lasts a week. But even when knowing all of this, we still love to force feed our friends shots of tequila.
Your 21st birthday, is a right of passage. It means legally drinking… because let’s be honest, no one waits until they are of legal age to drink from the devils cup; and by that I mean mike’s hard lemonade, and UV vodka. (both of which are as un-classy as they are delicious, but it is more of a sugar high than anything else)
My friends and I got together and went to the closest bar in the area that wasn’t filled with old smelly biker gang men… though now that is more of the place that I prefer. I got dressed up, and wore heels, because I decided to torture myself. My other friends dressed up nicely, and we hit the town. We sat down, and I already had a drink in front of me. Out of my group of friends I was the last to turn 21 so I had no idea what I was in for. I had shot after shot, and then because I am basic white bitch, we decided to dance; and by dance I mean I flopped around like an idiot, but I do that sober. I am pleased to say that my heels stayed on all night. We walked over to the next bar down the street, and at that point I didn’t even remember getting there, we just were. I was told that I was given two consecutive shots of tequila, and I requested no chaser, which means that all the nerves in my body were completely shot to hell. I have little recollection of the entire time at the second bar. However, I do recall trying to walk to the bathroom and nearly falling over because I was still wearing my heels. Once we had enough we started to make our way to the cars, and I was being driven back to my friends house. It was a short drive, about 5 minutes, and I sat in the backseat of his mother’s car. Great choice. We were nearly back to his house when he told me to tell him to pull over if I was going to get sick, I agreed, but being in the state of mind that I was I don’t think I could have told him what my name was. So being the classy lady that I am, I decided to roll down the window and puke instead of telling him to pull the car over. Which as you can imagine, that did not go as planned. We got to my friends house, and I remember trying to scoop the mess into my hand, which of course was only making matters worse. But… “I was trying to help.” I was told to go inside and change, and that was my last memory of the night before I completely blacked out. So, from what I was told, and this could be completely false… I was given my bag to change into my pajamas, and I did so alone in the bathroom and not right out in the open…. thank god. I held conversations, and was cracking jokes, ya know, the usual. Then I tucked myself in on the couch, and fell asleep… at about 12:30 am. Party animal right. So then my friends proceeded to party and drink, and good for them, I was there in spirit. I was told that I was checked on regularly to make sure I was not dead. I woke up the next morning with other friends passed out on the couches with me, and I felt fine. Sleeping for 12 hours helps with the hangover apparently. My other friend drove me home, and I smelled like puke… it was great. Then we all moved on with our lives, and I believe we drank the following night too.
There is the story of my 21st birthday… like I said, nothing special. But I had a wonderful time with my friends, and I am so grateful to have them in my life; then and now.
So, for anyone out there turning 21, or if you’re not in America, when you become of legal age, which seems like 18 literally everywhere else, don’t over think it. Do something fun with people you love, and make it a night you’ll remember… or wont. That’s up to you.