My first drink was half a bottle of brandy in a park in my hometown. My friend had "borrowed" the bottle from her father - it was a really fine brandy! As we had no idea whatsoever about the effects, we shared the bottle and it was big. I don't remember very much of that evening, but at least I got home.
What's important in this story, is that for as long as I can remember my mother had been trying to scare me away from booze by telling me horror stories of its effects. I'd heard the stories so many times, and at the same time I guess I saw the reality. Not all people become alcoholics although at least 99% of the population of this country drink.
I guess her stories had made some impression after all, because I remember being scared when we started to drink that brandy, but I was probably mostly scared because I did something that was so much forbidden by my mom, and she was indeed a strong personality.
However, the pressure from my class mates was stronger. When I grew up during the late sixties it was sortof cool to be really drunk. This might sound a bit odd, but that's the way it was, and it was no difference between boys and girls. The more drunk, the cooler you were!
The general topic on Monday mornings in school was how drunk you'd been, what you'd been drinking, whether you'd been throwing up or not. Until that evening in the park, I'd been a rather silent person, good in school with good grades, but not many friends. In fact I had only one real friend, but when she found a boyfriend I guess I was rather lonely as I wasn't part of the gang who drank and smoked. So I just started with both and immediately became accepted.
I've got no memories of being sick from drinking, which is also important in this. I can't remember feeling hung over - I just thought it was so fun.
