The first time I got drunk believe it or not was when I was just 9 years old. I was on a vacation with my dad and step mom in Laguna Beach California. This was in fact the first and only real vacation we went on and I was beyond excited.
We stayed in a nice hotel not far off the beach. My parents wanted to go out for dinner alone one night and they left me in the room alone. I was instructed to order room service and bill it to the room.
At 9 this amazed me and excitedly I browsed the menu and called them up. The phone was answered by a gentleman with a strong accent and in broken English. I placed my order and finished by adding, “and a Coke in my room”. There were no questions and soon my order arrived. He wheeled a cart in removed the cover (much like you see in movies) he nodded (although with a look of confusion) and then backed out of the room closing the door behind him.
I sat down to watch TV and eagerly ate my food. I took a sip of the drink and to my surprise it was... different. I rationalized it was “California Coke” and quickly finished it. As no parameters were given by my parents on the quantify of my order I called them up and orders another Coke just like the last one. And another, and another.
Somewhere in there I passed out and slept till late the next morning. When I finally woke up my parents asked me why I had been ordering Rum & Cokes. I had no idea what they were talking about but sure enough the receipt showed the word “rum”. We theorized they misunderstood when I said “room” for “rum”.
They laughed it off with me but I couldn’t help but feel bad for the wait staff when my dad inevitably got ahold of them.