Natalie encourages my bad behavior.

After meeting her, we are having a lot of fun together, and many nights end with lots of drinking, dancing, and laughing so hard it hurts. If I have nearly any alcohol in my system, I will dance the entire time. I wake up after long nights out with sore legs and blisters on my feet. Natalie thinks it’s hysterical and has become my hype woman and occasional backup dancer. The last thing I need is any encouragement.

We have the most fun Halloween I’ve ever had. We dress as Spartans, and I run around with a plastic spear causing mayhem. We go to various resorts around the island, drink all day by the pool, and dance at the clubs all night.

In December, the Air Station throws the unit holiday party on base. The spouses’ club does a great job decorating with a large holiday tree, wreaths, and nice table centerpieces. It is festive. The party has an open bar for the first hour, and after that, we will have to pay for our drinks. Obviously, I immediately get in line to take advantage of the open bar.

I try to stock up on drinks, but we are only allowed one drink at a time. I take my drink right back to the end of the line, drink it while waiting, and finish it just as I get back up to the bartender. I do this continually for the entire hour of open bar.

Once the open bar finishes, I am no longer interested, and I am already feeling pretty good. I notice the dance floor is empty, and the party is pretty quiet. I think back to something CAPT Pettitt told me a couple of years earlier.

At the Coast Guard holiday party in flight school, everyone is dressed in their holiday best, and I barge in wearing a full Santa outfit, already drunk. I go directly to the dance floor, where I remain until the party ends. CAPT Pettitt and his wife pull me aside at one point, and he says, “You see, George, this is why I wanted you to come to flight school. You are the type of guy we need to make the Christmas party fun.”

So as I stare at the empty dance floor in Puerto Rico, his words echoing in my head, I know what I must do.

I stumble onto the dance floor alone and unafraid, and dance by myself like nobody is watching. Eventually, others join, and it turns into a real party. I sweat through my shirt, take a wreath off the wall, and wear it around my neck while twerking on the Christmas tree. This obscene gesture goes on way longer than it should.

On my trip to the bathroom, the Commanding Officer calls me over. I try to look as sober as possible in my sweat-drenched shirt while wearing a Christmas wreath. For a minute, I fear I am in trouble again, until he smiles, takes out his camera, snaps a photo, and tells me to continue.

I have an incredible time that night and go to bed proud, thinking that I am the drunk who saved the holiday party.

I wake up the next morning with a pounding headache, dry mouth, and regret. I think back to the night before, and flashes of all my antics play over in my mind. The pride I had the night before is replaced with shame and embarrassment.

At 25 years old, I am the newest and youngest pilot at the Air Station, and almost all of the flight mechanics and rescue swimmers at the unit are older and more experienced than me. I have been working hard to earn their trust, and now everyone has seen me treat the unit holiday party like a college frat party. I imagine all the spouses I was meeting for the first time, now worried about their loved ones and thinking, “That idiot is the one you’re trusting your life with?”

I didn’t do anything necessarily bad or inappropriate. I didn’t get in trouble, but I certainly didn’t look like a professional. I keep thinking about “honoring our profession,” and I feel like I made a mistake. I realize that I can’t just flip a switch, act professional at work, and expect people to trust me. I need to be better than that. I think about having to go out on a dark and stormy night and trying to lead a crew when all they are thinking about is how they saw me dancing suggestively with Christmas decor.

I start to realize that I want to be more than the person who makes Christmas parties fun. I want to be the person people look for to keep them safe when all hell is breaking loose.