Dull Straight Edge

For a little under 2 years I dated a boy that identified himself as "straight edge." Naturally, this meant that I was straight edge, too. (In the same sense that I stopped using eggs and cooking with meat or dairy when I later dated a Vegan.) One night, as boyfriends are wont to do, mine really T'd me off. I don't remember what he did, but whatever it was, it made me angry enough to finish off 4 glasses of champagne in a half hour at Doll House.
We headed over to this hippie party in the corner apartment of a lovely, large white house. There was dancing, and so I danced. Within 5 minutes, I was grinding on some girl hardcore. This went on for a little bit. Suddenly, it occurred to me that I did not know where I was, nor remembered how I got there. Also, I did not really know anyone in the room well enough to trust my safe keeping to in my muddled state.
Somehow, I found my boyfriend, who drove me home to his parents' house (he went to school elsewhere, and was only visiting), where I passed out whining at him to leave the light on, because I was scared of the dark.

Rock N Roll No More