12.5 years old. was routinely mistaken for my 16yr old brother’s older brother.
Friends cobbled cash together and sent me (looked the oldest) to the bottle store (off-licence in NZ). Had to be 21 to buy alcohol in the 1970’s. I bought a flagon (4 pints) of Port – the cheapest, most alcoholic thing they sold (stored in huge tank, you filled the flagon jug and paid). Got back to friends house to find they had got bored and had raided the drinks cabinet.
Pissed off at my wasted 1 hour round trip I drank all of the port in a few minutes. Was out of it for 7 hours, came to lying on the lounge floor unable to move, managed to crawl to the bathroom about 2 hours later, friends had all gone out, left me on my own. I showered, then rode my bike home, fell off a few times & the usual 10 minute ride took over an hour.
Mum found me in our downstairs shower, fast asleep with water pouring over me. Went upstairs, got fed steak and chips and sent to bed. Had to apologise to my friends parents as I had thrown up port all over their lounge carpet & it had to be replaced. Still can’t drink wine to this day.
In life, it's not who you know that's important, it's how your wife found out.