Stupid moves part two

As my previous post helped to establish I'm just not the sharpest knife in the drawer at times.

Since WitNit tagged me with his "My stupidest moment" meme with the question: What’s the stupid story you only tell when you're drunk? It seems only fitting that the story be from one of the *ahem* few *ahem* experiences I have with alcohol.

It was my freshmen year in high school. The town I grew up in is Greenville, North Carolina, home of East Carolina University and some of the best tailgating in the country. The week prior to a home ECU football game a group of my friends and I decided to tailgate, which would seem harmless enough to most folks.

My parents did their due diligence: they spoke to the parents of other kids that would be there, they spoke to the chaperones and then after quite a bit of begging on my part, they granted me permission. Looking back on it now I honestly think they had a prior knowledge of things to come because they were reluctant to let me go or the fact I was a tad bit of a hellion at the time but, anyhoo…

The Saturday of the game rolled around, my parents dropped me off and I had arranged for a ride home. It started out simple enough, the chaperones were there, and we grilled out, tossed around a football, typical tailgating experience minus alcohol; until the chaperones left to walk around. Once the chaperones were a safe distance away the booze was pulled out and we started taking shots.

This was really my first experience drinking alcohol in any quantity. I can’t remember now the exact amount, but that I got more than a tad bit tipsy. My intentions were to take a couple of shots, catch a buzz sober up during the game and return home. I was down right drunk and it wasn’t a pretty site. Being too drunk to get into the game we decided it was time to depart the tailgating field lest we be arrested for being drunk and underage.

All was well and good until they put me in a moving car. This proved to be a bad idea. I didn’t puke in the car; I did however puke a couple of times on the way home. So we arrived at my house where my friends helped me out of the car, at the end of the driveway. I somehow managed to stumble a majority of the way up the driveway, how long it took I’m not sure, to the door. Where I was promptly greeted by my loving mother; who to say the least was less than amused.

I tried my best to convince them I wasn’t drunk and that I hadn’t had anything to drink, but they weren’t buying my story for some reason. Maybe it was the little bit of puke I got on my shirt, maybe it was the stench of Jack Daniels I’m not sure which one it was but something gave away the fact that I’d had at least one to many to drink. It certainly couldn’t have been my inability to crawl a straight line or slurred speech that had anything to do with it.

I can’t remember the exact punishment my parents handed down; I’m just happy my father was able to suppress the urges to strangle me (or maybe he didn’t and that explains quite a bit, hmmm), but I do know it kept me from drinking a majority of the remaining years of High School.

To this day I'm still not sure what made me think I could pull of catching a buzz and then going home to the folks house. Definitely not one of my more intelligent moments.

Now to pass the meme along:
basil from basil’s blog ought to have a great story.
As a fellow ECU Graduate I’ll tap William Teach from Pirates Cove.
Payback’s a bitch so I’ll tap moehawk from oystersnout.

Update: William Teach has posted his reply.
Update #2: moehawk has replied.