Once upon a time when I was a young 19 year-old at Louisiana Tech, Scott and I had been dating for almost two months before Valentine's Day and I was looking forward to the big day with my boyfriend. Scott had planned the whole evening — ordered great Italian take-out and had driven to Grambling to buy champagne. For those of you unfamiliar with the town of Ruston (home of LA Tech), it was a dry town — dry, damp — I don't know, you couldn't buy booze, just beer. And drinking definitely wasn't allowed on campus. Oh, well.
Anyliquor, Scott turned his dorm room into romance central and I was pretty impressed. He poured champagne into fluted glasses and we had a wonderful dinner. He gave me a book of Shakespeare's sonnets and roses and poured more champagne, it was a great Valentine's date. I had never had champagne and didn't have a clue that drinking a few glasses (or 5, I wasn't counting) would be so potent. I'm not sure what Scott had planned for the rest of the evening, probably something wholesome like playing Scrabble or watching The Sound of Music, but his plans were dashed when I passed out.
I have been inebriated twice in my life. Valentine's Day 1994 was the first instance.
The dorm rules required girls to be out by midnight, so Scott woke me up at 11:55 and drove me to my dorm. Let me illustrate this for you: his dorm was on the 3rd floor and he helped me walk downstairs and put me in his Maxima, then drove me 50 YARDS to the back door of my dorm. I was so drunk I couldn't walk 50 yards, y'all. Sad. I remember sitting in Scott's car and him talking me through how I would walk to the second floor of Dudley. I don't know how long it took me to make it to my room, but I know it took me a long time to figure out how to work the lock on the door. I don't remember what I did after opening the door.
My roommates were gone for the weekend, which turned out to be a good thing. I woke up the next morning feeling like crap and looking like death. I sat up in my bed and wondered where my pajamas were because I was only wearing undies and my eyelashes were glued shut from sleeping in my eye makeup. It was a proud moment. I put on my robe, got my bath caddy, and took a shower, hoping to wash off some of the effects of champagne, but pear bodywash was no match for cheap champagne. While I was washing my hair I realized I wasn't wearing my watch, which I never took off (still never take off my watch). When I got back to my room I saw what a weird disarray it was in. I started looking for my watch and the jewelry I had worn the night before and couldn't find either. Eventually I started to feel a little more myself and straightened up the room, started studying, talked on the phone — but I felt naked without my watch, so I went back to the great jewelry hunt. I found my watch, earrings, bracelet, and pearl ring in the little trash can by my desk area. Who doesn't come in from a hot date and throw their jewelry away?
And that is the tale of Kerry and Scott's first Valentine's Day together and my first experience with alcohol. It's not earth-shattering, but it's mine and I think it's kind of funny.
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone. I hope you spend today with someone you love or thinking about the one you love or something. I'm going to take the kids out to eat, since Scott's out of town, then I may get wild and watch the Valentine's marathon on Oxygen! Hope it doesn't get too rowdy and no one calls the cops! xxxooo — K
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