Drunk Girl
There’s certain songs that make you feel nostalgic. Pop punk was the thing back in the early 2000s. I mean, Lauren Conrad from Laguna Beach is married to the former front man of the band Something Corporate. That’s what I call a throwback.
Anyways, they had this song called “Drunk Girl” that reminds me of my first high school party…that I wasn’t invited to.
It was early 2003, the second half of my freshman year of high school. I had made friends with a girl who had transferred to El Cajon Valley High School because her stepfather was in the military. We both needed a foreign language and neither one of us wanted to take Spanish, so we chose German. Imagine living in San Diego and not wanting to learn Spanish. We were stupid 14 year-old girls.
Anyways, I was acing German and had to tutor my girlfriend in that class like I did in our Algebra class. But because I was acing German with flying colors that made me a prime target for the cool upperclassmen to make fun of me. Also, I wore glasses. I didn’t wear make-up. I didn’t really wear clothes that showed off my figure because I felt like I didn’t have one and even if I did wear those things, I looked so young that no one would even notice.
Needless to say, my friend was the opposite of me. She was the hot one. She was Filipino, had hair all the way to her ass, wore mini skirts up to her ass and heels to school. She knew how to apply make-up. She was everything I wanted to be. Guys actually looked at her for good reasons or for what I thought was good reasons when really, they just saw her as easy.
One of the guys decided to invite her to a “party” and she asked me if I wanted to go. I said “I wasn’t invited. They don’t want me there.” She says “But I want you there. You’re my best friend.” As I looked at the Bob Burnquist picture in my locker (He was my crush my freshman year…stop laughing), I shut my locker and relented. “Ok…I’ll go”, I said hesitantly.
I decided to drag other people with me to a party I wasn’t invited to because there were going to be more guys. I dragged my cousin who was also desirable and a neighboring girl who was a little on the rotund side to make myself look better. Again, stop fucking laughing.
My Filipino girlfriend was not giving the guy who invited her any attention. I guess he was drowning his sorrows in Smirnhoff in the kitchen when I walked in. I had no idea how to pour myself a drink because it was my first time drinking aside from a shot or two of Bacardi 151. I saw him slumped over by the counter as I mixed myself vodka and 7-up. We started casually talking and when he found out that I liked football, he uttered with slurred speech “You’re not as lame as I thought you were”. Brutal.
We shared a kiss after continuing our conversation and I thought maybe he’s not an asshole after all. WRONG.
I kissed a drunk girl. Why do I do these things I do to myself? I kissed a drunk girl. Now, I’m sure I could have been anybody else.
We went back to school after this wild 7-person “party” that I’m pretty sure was meant to be a teenage orgy and of course, I went right back to being the butt of their jokes. I had homeboy’s phone number so I did call him because I thought “Maybe he secretly likes me”. No, he liked my friend. My friend rejected him. He got drunk and I was the nearest unsuspecting soul. But of course, that was too much for my 14 year old brain to comprehend. Eventually, I gave up after a few phone calls to no avail.
Sometimes I still see myself as that awkward, uncool, 14 year old girl with glasses and no boobs. Eventually, I’ll shake that image of myself. Granted, I am still awkward AF — just now, I embrace it instead of run from it. See me, love me. Take me as I am or not at all.
He wasn’t the first guy I would like that didn’t like me and he wouldn’t be the last. I have a penchant for it…