I Wouldn’t Touch a Drop.
My high school graduation, like most, was a huge ceremony in the sun with happy teenagers throwing their caps in the air afterward. (My sons were not allowed to decorate or throw their caps, the logic of which completely eludes me.)
After graduation, I had the thrilling opportunity to drive my parents’ car to the graduation party to which I’d been invited. Given that I had only gone to my high school for two years because of all the moves, the fact that I’d been invited to any graduation party was huge excitement. But being able to drive … well, that was the best graduation present ever!
Except, in reality, it wasn’t.
I gathered up a ton of friends, who piled into our Datsun hatchback until they were sitting on laps and spilling over one another – and onto me as I drove. I played the music loud but everyone was talking, so no one really enjoyed my musical choices. With everyone on board though, we arrived safely, happily at the party. That’s when the problems started.
I was driving, which meant I couldn’t drink. Long before “designated drivers” became a trend, I promised my parents I wouldn’t touch a drop.
And I didn’t.
With all of my social anxieties still hugely intact, I walked around with my soda(s) while my friends drank champagne. When they moved onto other drinks, I ate cookies and chips. I wandered around standing near friends, but never really talking. I could hardly wait to leave.
And that’s when the other issues arose. Some of my friends wanted to go to another party. Some of my friends wanted to stay. I was the only one who wanted to go home – and I was driving everybody. I can’t recall how this problem was resolved; I am certain that some people were unhappy with whatever decision was made.
My best graduation present was a trip to Florida, which came with a purple duffle bag that lasted literally 30 years. My friend, Sherry, and I visited Magic Kingdom and I had the time of my life. Disney World was my kind of place, and I wanted to live on Space Mountain.
During that trip, I also went out with a bunch of Sherry’s friends. We piled into a car, just like my friends had done on graduation, and the driver – who didn’t care if he drank before driving – blasted through the farmlands at a full 100 miles per hour. He didn’t slow down for anything.
I remember thinking, I am going to die today. This is how I am going to die. I couldn’t say anything out loud; I was merely a passenger with no control over my impending death.
I think back on my ultra-safe driving decision from graduation day now with relief, even though the party was awkward and horrible. I’m glad I stayed sober. I’m glad the day wasn’t made worse because of alcohol. I’m glad I didn’t spend the day with my head in the toilet. I’m glad I didn’t drive 100 and I’m glad I didn’t kill any of my friends.
I think that is both a gift and a miracle.