This may be a bad idea to put online, and will probably self-destruct eventually. Please don't share to GT or anywhere else because I'll probably get much-deserved judgment for this! As a teenager I did some shitty things in the name of rebellion, and they seemed cool at the time but it's pretty clear now that they were lame. So here is a tale of one of the dumbest things I did as a teen, which also qualifies as being kind of evil as well.
So, growing up I had a friend who was raised Catholic and hated it. Her mom made her go to church and confession every week but didn't go to confession herself because she was no longer a "good" Catholic after leaving my friend's shitty biological father (of whom my friend has no memories, thank goodness). So in high school she'd make my friend drive herself to church but she wouldn't always go. I'd go with my friend sometimes for company, and sometimes we'd skive off to Borders but my friend's mom's TERRIBLE boyfriend would sometimes drive over to check that her car was still in the parking lot, so we had to stay. I was baptized but not as a Catholic so I could receive communion at my own church but not at hers, so I was a bit resentful of the whole thing as well. We were liberal kids raised in a conservative Southern town and went to a conservative school, so we had a lot of resentment against the Man, so to speak.
We were around sixteen when this story takes place. We couldn't skip church entirely because her mom's boyfriend was going to come by and check, but we did decide to bail on the service and wander around the church instead. We walked around the office building, making fun of the walls and carpet which were Pepto-Bismol pink. We wandered into a sort of cafeteria/auditorium (there was an elementary school there too), and found big double doors that led to a kitchen. They were unlocked.
We went into the kitchen and found a bunch of industrial-size appliances and gleaming surfaces. There was a large fridge. My friend opened the door and found...a magnum-size GIANT bottle of California White Zinfandel!
I don't remember the brand, but I Googled it later and the magnums retail for $7, so it was basically a double-sized bottle of dirt cheap pink wine, the least classy wine imaginable. There wasn't a ton of food in there so we weren't sure why it was there. My friend's first thought was that this was a church so it must be communion wine, but it was PINK. No way in hell that was communion wine!
And then she closed to fridge door, the bottle still in her hand. She took off her jacket and wrapped it around the bottle.
"Are you serious?" I asked.
"Let's just go get this in the car," she said. I laughed, and that's exactly what we did.
But it was too early for us to leave yet, so we walked over to the playground. We'd been watching pole dancing tutorials on YouTube lately, and since there was absolutely no one to be seen nearby, we decided to practice on the fireman's pole on the play structure. It's a lot harder than it looks! We stopped and ran off, giggling, when we saw people walking our way.
I bought plastic wine glasses at Party City, and the next weekend we drank the whole bottle. I'm no sure I've ever had a worse hangover than the one I woke up with the next day—that wine was disgusting and it made me ill beyond belief. I don't think I puked, but it might have been better if I had. And that's the story of how I stole wine from a church and pole-danced on a playground as a teenager.