The last memory I have of myself wearing a jumpsuit was one I barely remember, probably because I blacked out from binge drinking seconds later. I was at “beach week”—a right of passage for all high school graduates. Immediately following our graduation ceremony, my entire class piled into vans and headed to Dirty Myrtle Beach in South Carolina for 5 days of alcohol fueled debauchery.
I had just returned from a year abroad in Italy, so naturally I thought I was way more sophisticated than everyone else. “I can so handle my alcohol,” I bragged to anyone who would listen. Less than 12 hours after arriving in Dirty Myrtle, I was the first one to pass out from drinking one too many 4 Lokos (no surprise here). I woke up to find a huge dick drawn on my leg in Sharpie and vomit in my hair.