NTKOG #136: The kind of high-class non-alcoholic who, not letting propriety or open-containers laws harsh her all-day buzz, takes her liquor to the streets in a poorly thought-out disguise. So. A high school student, basically.
I am: a bit surprised I’ve never done the ol’ booze-in-Nalgene, actually. But when I have drank outside — wine at picnics, tequila on the train — I’ve always taken an oh-well-what-the-hell attitude that has never failed to serve me well.
I am not: sure why we even dreamed we had to go to the trouble anywhere within Europe. Only in Puritanical America (holla atcha, City On The Hill!) would anyone feel the need to hide moderate alcohol consumption with a midday meal.
The Scene: Park Citadel on a lazy afternoon in Barcelona, packing a picnic to keep abreast of our resolution to eat nothing but wine, cheese and Nutella while on vacation. (Resolution: success; my sense of well-being after a week of this treatment: …less markedly successful.) As we finished packing preparations, adorably over-anxious Kiss-Ducker — o! she of the perma-furrowed brow! — angsted over whether we ought to take measures to hide the wine.
Dude, Justice and I reminded her, we’re in Europe. It’s just so unlikely that anybody would ever care.
But then it reminded me of all those cute memories I never got to make in high school, so we ran out and bought a 1.5L bottle of iced tea, which I chugged part of and then, when we were at the park, surreptitiously fed to a shrubbery. Fun fact, guys: pouring wine from its bottle into little plastic cups? Elegant and sporting. Pouring wine from a Nestea bottle into plastic cups? Amusing and nostalgic. Pouring wine into a Nestea bottle? Conspicuous. And embarrassing as all get-out.
Yes we are the classiest of broads -- who said anything about ugly Americans?!
On the bright side? Moments after we took this picture, we were assaulted by one of the dudes who walks around the park selling green plastic bags of contraband.
“Coca-Cola?” he asked us. “Cerveza?” After we happily declined, he rocked back on his heel and appraised us for five long seconds, taking in our joie de vivre and childish wine camouflage. “You want hashish?”
The Verdict: Thank you, green-bagger, for making this stodgy old lady feel the teensiest bit badass. No, I don’t want any hashish, but if you can get your hands on some more Nutella, let me know.
You guys, I’m in a whimsical spring-time mood — have any stories to share about drinking hidden booze during your rowdy high-school/undergrad days? Or joyous reminisces about picnics? Prose poetry about Nutella?
{ 15 comments… read them below or add one }
Oh, I still lament the night I had “accidentally” walked out of a party onto the street with the most delicious plastic cup of, shall we call it punch(?) still in my hand. As we walked the three blocks to a bar, a very sweet police officer stopped me and said “Miss, is that alcohol? Because you can’t just walk down the street drinking. We have an open container law in Kentucky.” I was immediately flattered that he assumed I was not from around here. Smiling sweetly I replied, “I’m so sorry. Can I stand very still and finish it? It’s almost gone.” Luckily, he responded well to my playful suggestion and allowed me my little moment of debauchery while my friends stood by motionless and amazed that I wasn’t getting a citation, as Louisville police have a bit of a bad reputation. I finished my little drink, made a point of depositing the super classy plastic cup in a nearby trash bin and thanked the officer. He wished us a goodnight and away we went. I did however, from that night forward, learn to finish my drinks before exiting out onto the streets of my fair Commonwealth.
Oh my gosh, “Can I stand very still and finish it” is the most brilliant and adorable answer anyone could possibly have thought of! Amazing! You are so my hero for the day!
Hey now, I love your literariness! It rocks. As does drinking en plein air.
Every year we have a block party on the street I grew up on, and the “kids” (us) always drink and do ridiculous things. Somewhere around high school is when the drinking started, but we weren’t quite old/confident enough to just drink beers in front of our parents (that kicked in around college, yes, still underage, but hey- our parents were there!) So we did awesome things like fill soda containers with beer from the keg. I just remember one time I was holding my “soda” and my mom came up and asked for a sip. I got out of it somehow by telling her it was empty or something, but we did have a good giggle about it. No doubt she knew what I had and could smell it, but we were dumb and didn’t think about that.
Hmmm…I was one of those kids with a can of beer up each sleeve of my oversized hoodie, and my backpack clinked when I walked. Oh, but slushies (slurpies, whatever you call them) are great disguises for vodka.
Why have vodka slushies never occurred to me? Can’t wait for summer to try that one!
Oh, how I wish this was titled “TKOG Who buys hash in the park”
and then subsequently “TKOG Who searches HIGH and low for a Taco Bell in Barcelona”
Jus’ sayin’.
hahaha, you are awesome! I wish I’d done it for the title alone! Although usually when — er, I mean, if ever — TKOG buys hash, it turns into “TKOG Who spends forty-five minutes engaged in what she thinks is brilliant comedy writing, only to later find an old receipt scrawled over with body-part rhymes”.
I’m apparently the only writer in the world who doesn’t respond well to the occasional inspiration bowl. I’m totally useless if I so much as smell pot.
No Taco Bells, but there are a couple of all-night churros places (they’re more like large carts, really), and there used to be a croissant factory which opened at 5am and would sell you a box of like 6 chocolate and/or powdered sugar croissants for €2!
(Also, lots of people buy hash in parks, especially Ciutadella, which is why those guys offer it to everyone. But you’re still a badass, TKOG!)
This may be more for a TMI Thursday…when my (now) husband (and father of our 3 children) and I were undergrads, we frequented a 18+ dance club – the kind of place where they mark your hands with big black Sharpie X’s if you’re under 21. He was younger than me, but had a fake ID and therefore got to act cool and get drinks at the bar. Here’s how the gross scene played out… he would take a large sip of the drink, we would “passionately” kiss, and voila, I was enjoying (sort of) my rum & Coke. UGH!!! Thinking back, we just have to laugh. There’s NO way this went unnoticed, but what low paid club worker was going to bust us? Besides, we probably provided some fun people-watching and conversation-starters by our disgusting spectacle.
!!!!! Oh my gosh! I literally just gasped “Nooooooooooo!” out loud! Amazing story, dude. Amazing. You’re definitely going to need to pass that one on to the kids when they’re at optimal embarrassment age.
never hid alcohol when I was a teenager, but I’ve certainly been brought the suspicious Nalgene by friends. They brought me a vodka surprise – it was pink. The surprise turned out to be “surprise, it’s VODKA” to which they had added Koolaid powder.
Well I do believe I once hid beer bottles in all pockets of my overalls. I was fifteen. I was wearing overalls. I was drinking beer in public.
Clearly, sophistication and class have always been a big part of my upbringing.
Don’t even get me started on Nutella. Sweet, delicious, chocolate spread-of-the-Gods.
Smear that in a crepe with bananas, and I am just about the happiest girl ever.
Seeing the green grass and sunshine in your picture has inspired me to plan a picnic in a park while in Barcelona next week. I may even have to pack alcohol in a container other than the original, though I’m certain it will not be that horrid concoction that Spanish kids love so much: the calimocho (Coca-Cola + cheap red wine). Thanks for giving me something else to look forward to!
Yay! You definitely should! Picnics are by far the most fun way to take in meals during nice weather! Heck, I’ve even been known to picnic during not-so-nice weather…