Being a teenager totally sucked. But it especially sucked when my parents arbitrarily made up rules. Some nights they were whatevs about a curfew, but other nights they’d randomly say “be home by midnight!” or “be home by 11!” Inconsistent parenting like that was very, very frustrating — especially since I was basically good kid who didn’t do too many naughty things. (Granted, I did not do much to endear them to trust me after I got my belly button and tongue pierced.)
But I’ve always been a devious girl, so when I had a curfew, you’d best believe I found ways to get around it ….
“During my later years of high school, my mom and dad lived in house that had only one floor. BEST THING EVER for a high schooler with a curfew! I figured out that I could dis-assemble the screen from outside of the house so that I could easily climb out my bedroom window like a cat burglar. If my parents told me I had to be home at a certain time that night, before I left I would open my bedroom window before I left (because it squeaked and was kind of noisy), cover it up with the curtain, and then have my boyfriend drive me home at the appointed time. He would go stand by my window while I would say goodnight to my parents, go into my bedroom and climb right out the window again. We would replace the screen on the outside so it looked “normal” and nobody would suspect anything.
Before he retired my dad used to wake up every day at, like, 6a.m., so my boyfriend would always make sure to get me back in bed before then. Once when I wanted to sleep at my boyfriends’ parents place all morning (they were out of town), before I snuck out the window I left a note on the kitchen table that said, “I got up to go watch the sunrise and then get brunch!” When I came home around noon they had no idea I’d been doing naughty things all morning instead.” — Jessica
“The minute the sun went down, I’d put on my skanky University of FL tank top, pull through the drive through liquor store a town over, and use my pathetic fake ID to score some wine coolers. Unfortch, by the time I scored, I’d already have to head back. My folks were strict, I could never ride in a friend’s car and I had to be home by 11 p.m. on weekends! My mom would literally wait at the front door, looking out the diamond shaped windows for my car to pull up. If I was late, I would tell her I was hanging with some Jewish boy and then she’d go easy on me for trying to date within the tribe. Oh god, I hope my mom doesn’t read this…” — Simcha
“I technically had a curfew of 2 a.m. on weekends and 1 a.m. on school nights, but after sophomore year I convinced my mom that it had all been moved back a couple hours and she just forgot. She got all self-conscious about being prematurely senile and went with it.” — Lily
“I did not have a curfew because I was a dork, didn’t drink and only smoked pot once in high school. I also didn’t have boyfriends, sex, or anyone to kiss. Sigh. In my defense, I went to a performing arts school where a ‘good time’ was considering playing dress up and performing show tunes.” — Amelia
“My mom was really strict when it came to me going out. She didn’t want me to hang out with no destination in mind, so I always had to have a plan. She had to know where I was going, with whom, what time I was leaving, and when I expected to return. I probably had a 7 p.m. or 8 p.m. curfew when I was 16, but she’d extend that when necessary. But whenever I was late she’d take off 30 minutes from my curfew for every five minutes I was late. I remember one time I was so late that my curfew would have been 10 a.m. if I chose to go out the next day! — Annika
“My curfew was 10 p.m. I dealt with this by running away from home and then not coming home at all. It was a good time until it wasn’t.” — “Mary”
“I never had a curfew growing up. I was completely anti-social in high school, hated everyone, and usually spent by time sitting alone in my bedroom reading Silvia Plath and going to bed at 8:30 p.m. I can count on two hands the number of times I actually went out at night and my parents were so happy I was making an effort to be normal, the only rule I had was to call them if I was too drunk to drive myself home. (And I did, once. My dad came and picked me up from a party at 3 in the morning, no questions asked).” — Wendy
“No curfew. There was a time maybe like freshman year when my parents half-heartedly said ‘you should be home by midnight’ or whatever. But I had my own door that led outside from my bedroom, so I would just sneak out of that. Hardly any stealth necessary.” — Erin
“My curfew was 11:30 on weekend nights, which was lame. So I’d sleep over at my best friend’s house any time there was a party or fun to be had ’cause she didn’t have a curfew. My mom never checked up on me or called my friend’s mom, so it all worked out.” — Joanne
“I didn’t really have curfew and I never stayed out late, either. I guess I was so busy with sports and other activities that I didn’t have time to make mischief and my parents trusted me to be home at a reasonable hour.” — Catherine