My parents never drank alcohol. Maybe they didn't need it to enjoy their lives, but they were vehemently opposed to anyone drinking it. When my grandfather died and Grandma began having one glass of wine with her evening meals, it sparked a controversy in her five children and their spouses. My parents were, as far as I know, the only ones opposed to her imbibing. Even back then I thought my folks were being a little staid. Grandma was a grown woman, old enough to make her own decisions, and it wasn't like she'd suddenly added a bottle-a-day addiction to harsh whiskey.
After growing up in that household, I was very careful with alcohol when I was allowed to drink. At parties, I still limit myself to two drinks or less, usually much less. I've had two drinks in one evening possibly three or four times in my life. One of those times sparked a story other than the one I'm telling you now because I also get drunk very easily. However, the first time I drank "too much," I had only swallowed about a half a shot glass full of wine.
I was at a party at my friend, Cindi's, house, along with my roommate, N, my boyfriend, Peregrin, and a half dozen or more acquaintances. I had a glass of wine I was slowly sipping until it was time to leave. When N, Peregrin and I returned to my apartment, I wasn't feeling very well. My tumbly was rumbly and I decided to take a dose of Bromo Seltzer to settle it. Bromo Seltzer was a lot like a powdered form of Alka Seltzer with no catchy commercial jingles, but it helped quickly. Only, suddenly, I was falling down laughing, giggling uncontrollably, and acting wasted. Peregrin and N were rightly confused because I hadn't had enough alcohol for a child to be drunk, much less an adult female! They could not figure out what was wrong with me and I wasn't helping any.
Cindi was studying to be a nurse. N and Peregrin called her with my symptoms, very frightened because I absolutely was not acting like myself. She told them I was drunk but they protested on the basis that two ounces of wine wouldn't be enough for ANYONE to be like this. Given their concern, and because she's a good friend, she rushed over to check on me, leaving her own party to be my nurse.
Turns out, the culprit was the Bromo Seltzer. Its fast-acting bubbles pushed what little alcohol I'd had into my bloodstream all at once. My drunken state lasted about thirty minutes. By the time Cindi arrived, I was calmly reclining in bed, watched like a hawk by my two bemused guardians. Thankfully, Cindi was more amused than angry.
Peregrin often teases me about that night. He claims I'm the cheapest drunk in history. He may be right.