When I was 18-years old, I liked getting drunk. You know, because I was class and sophisticated. Yet getting alcohol wasn’t always so easy. I would either have to ask a homeless person who most likely had a substance abuse problem that I inadvertently supported by giving them some vodka if they bought it for me, or some pervert who liked getting beer for underage girls and trying to go home with them. It wasn’t really a good scene.
One day my boyfriend and I had the super bright idea of driving 5 hours to go to Montreal for the night. Since the drinking age was 18, we could easily drink until we vomited blood. I know. We went to private school – so we were pretty smart.
Since it was already 7 pm, we got moving, and grabbed his best friend to come with us for the ride… and because we needed more money for our adventure.
Considering we didn’t want to get there too late, I decided I should probably drive 95 mph. I mean, I was going to college the next year, so obviously I had a great understanding of physics. The faster I drive, the faster I get there right? Yeah maybe… unless you’re lost in a small town where the speeding limit is 40, and you get pulled over.
Since I was going over twice the speed limit, I was in big trouble. The cop that caught me had little sympathy, and brought me right to jail. He wanted to impound the car, but in order to do that; I had to see the judge. The judge was home with with his family, as it was 10 pm on a Sunday, so was forced to leave his house to come to the courthouse. I’m sure you would not be surprised to hear that the judge was not very impressed by my explanation of why I was speeding. He set my bail at $900.
When we pooled together all my money, we had exactly $975. Keep in mind, this was 1998 there were no cell phones, no GPS, no FUCKING ATMS!! This was ALL THE MONEY we had. Yet we had no choice. We handed it over in order to get me out of jail and my car out of the impoundment.
Then we had a really important decision to make. Do we continue to Montreal with $75, no place to stay, and no access to get more money for the gas we would need for the return trip back? Or do we cut our losses and go home?
Of course we continued to Canada. Did I mention both my parents or professors!? I am obviously a genius with genius ideas!!!
We got to Montreal, and reality dawned on us. We had no place to sleep. We needed money to get home. And it was 1:45 am.
So what did we do you ask?
We went to the only place that was open, where we could drink as much as we wanted, and could stay until morning.
We went to the strip club.
Did I mention I had been accepted into Sarah Lawrence College! That’s a real intellectual school. That’s why I make such good life choices!
Spending the night with strippers was simultaneously crazy fun, and insanely sad. Fun because we got to drink until the room spun – sad because naked women who felt like their dads didn’t love them were spinning around poles with their pussies exposed. Yeah I know – maybe they like their jobs and feel sexually empowered. But as a young empathetic feminist who cared about their humanity and hoped these naked ladies were truly happy, I cried one glittery tear. But on a positive note, we did save money to get home because all the lonely men bought me drinks.
Here I am at 18…