What were my parents thinking?

For most of my life my parents were pretty strict. I had to let them know exactly where I was going and who I would be with before I left the house. I always had to check in with them when I was out with friends. I had to be home by 12:00am in high school when everyone else was allowed to stay out past 1:00am. The one time I brought a guy home, my dad grilled him so badly that I never again told them when I was dating someone. But then one night, it all changed.

The summer after freshman year of college the Kathys’ parents took our families to Italy. It was the trip of a lifetime. We spent two weeks traveling all over the country from Rome to Venice to Florence. We spent a week staying in a villa in Tuscany. It was amazing. Our trip had started and ended in Rome, which turned out to be my favorite city. The monuments and sightseeing were amazing, the food was delicious, and the bars looked damn fun.

On our last night in Rome, Party Kel and I were determined to party. After eating dinner, we spotted this fun bar across the Piazza Campo de' Fiori. We sat there and begged our parents to let us go out that night. In a completely monumental and uncharacteristic move, our parents agreed to let all the kids go out in Rome alone. They handed us some Euros, said goodnight, and headed back to our hotel. It was unreal. I was not used to such freedom. From there began probably the most ridiculously night of my life.

The Drunken Ship was an American bar, packed with tourists, and blasting recognizable tunes. They had a sign on the door letting people know that if they didn’t speak English, they weren’t allowed in. Needless to say, they didn’t ID.

Bad decisions

We proceeded to spend our Euros on rounds and rounds of shots. After we had quite the buzz going, the bartenders convinced The Noodle (Party Kel's little sister) and I to get on the bar and do body shots. My body shot was relatively tame, but after the bartender licked salt off The Noodle's stomach, took his shot, and bit the lime from her mouth, he proceeded to start furiously making out with her. (Keep in mind, The Noodle was just 15 at the time.)

Body shots

The night got even more ridiculous when Party Kel was convinced that these two guys she met were Italian models and she wanted to follow them across the city to a different bar. Trust me, they weren’t models, but I could barely convince her otherwise and she got mad when I wouldn't let her jet off on a Vespa with them.

Party Kel with her Italian "models"

By the end of the night, we were all wasted. The Noodle was noodling out, like she tends to do, and so we decided it was time to get her home. We managed to get her outside and sat her on the curb while we tried to hail a cab. Like a good friend, I stood above her, rubbing her back and handing her water. She repaid my kindness by projectile vomiting ALL OVER the front of my outfit. Being the crafty drunk that I am, I found a hose in an alley and washed myself off.  So there we are a group of teens, wasted, wet, and noodling in the middle of Rome, miles away from our hotel. No cab would let us in because The Noodle was such a mess. We ended up walking for over an hour to get to our hotel and arrived around 4:00am. Our flight home required us to wake up at 6:00am.

The Noodle, noodling

Looking back I probably thought this whole evening was the best idea ever, but now I just wonder what possessed our parents to think that two 19-years-olds should be allowed to go out drinking alone in a foreign country with our 17-year-old and two 15-year-old siblings. How this shift from strictness to instant leniency occurred is still beyond me. The kids still bring it up from time to time and say, what the hell were they thinking? But that night marked the end of an era. An era filled with curfews and incessant phone calls that I had come to accept as my adolescence.