In 1988, I was in year 10 and 14 years old. A group of year 10s from my school (the boys with Rat tail hair
styles, BMX bicycles and rock tee-shirts and the girls who hang out with them) were rumoured to meet under Riverton Bridge by the river to drink beer on Fridays after school, but I wasn’t part of that crowd. By year 11, some students would be bragging of successfully smuggling liquor into school socials in Coke bottles, but that wasn’t happening yet in year 10. So no, I never got drunk in 1988.