The mortifying middle-class cocaine horror stories that will put you off the ‘posh’ drug for LIFE – including a married mother’s confession that shocked even me: SEALED SECTION

Not so long ago I attended a baby shower.

Now, full disclosure, I hate baby showers. I don’t want to play games where we sniff melted chocolate in a nappy. I don’t want to guess the sex, date or weight of the impending arrival. And I really don’t want to be stuck in a room full of clucky women swapping childbirth war stories.

Nevertheless, I clutched my exorbitantly priced diaper bag (as requested on the gift registry), threw on my most floral frock and mentally prepared for an afternoon of mind-numbing baby chat.

So imagine my surprise when I walked into a backyard pumping with house beats, shirtless male waiters in linen pants serving margaritas, and a pizza chef slinging pies from an outdoor oven.

Oh… and a back room discreetly offering up lines of cocaine.

What bizarre place had I just entered? Oh, right. It’s a typical eastern suburbs baby shower. And can I tell you, a time was had. The back room was popular. The vibes were high. And naturally, being Sydney’s east, there was a scandal. 

One male guest (yes, men were invited!) decided it was a great idea after a few too many party favours to ditch his girlfriend at the party and go home with his ex. Fast forward 24 hours and he was sobbing into his iPhone, begging for forgiveness.

It got me thinking: what other chaos has unfolded after a couple of cheeky lines?

Stumbling into the ‘coke room’ at a baby shower recently reminded me this really is the drug of the upper middle class. They don’t hit rock bottom like most of us, but their tales of woe are no less mortifying, writes Mail+ columnist Jana Hocking

And no, this isn’t to glamorise the drug. Personally, I get anxiety just thinking about paying $300 for 15 minutes of buzz. A girl could get a classy pair of heels for that. 

Plus, as someone who knows the full-body dread of anxiety without the need for any illicit powder, I wouldn’t wish the Tuesday blues on my worst enemy.

Well… maybe one or two exes.

So I threw the question out to my Instagram followers: ‘Tell me your cocaine horror stories.’ And there were some real shockers…

‘He peed under the sink’ 

I was at a wedding and ended up in a hotel room with a man who swore on his life he’d never done cocaine before that day.

The sex was actually alright, if a bit wobbly to start with. But when nature called after we did the deed, he stumbled to the bathroom and… pissed under the sink.

The toilet was right there but he decided the floor under the sink was the appropriate place to relieve himself.

A mother confessed she knew she had to kick the habit after her child found her stash while rummaging through her handbag for snacks (stock image posed by models) 

We had a foursome with his cousin 

There was a time in my marriage, before we had kids, when my husband and I would invite his cousin and her husband over for Friday night dinner and drinks.

Our nice little tradition soon became a bit of a coke fest, and one night we all ended up in the spa together… then in the bedroom.

The boys were all out of commission for the evening – yes, coke d*** is real – so we were just going at it hard with toys the first time.

We ended up making it a bit of a routine, having foursomes a few times that year.

But, over time, I felt a bit gross about the fact it was my husband… with his cousin. I even googled whether it was legal.

That and the fact the cost of living priced us out of buying cocaine put a stop to the shenanigans. We’ve never told a soul.

‘The darkest moment of my life’ 

I still remember the darkest moment of my life.

I had a stash in the side pocket of my handbag. My child was rummaging for snacks and came toddling out holding it up like it was fairy dust.

We were at a family barbecue. The look on my father’s face broke me, and my mother cried. I swore that day I’d never touch it again – and I haven’t since.

Every time I see a Ziploc bag, I get flashbacks.

‘My boobs popped out’ 

It was at a friend’s 30th birthday party years ago. The ​theme was Studio 54 and I took it too literally by bringing along a fat bag of coke.

I did three lines in a row and decided I was born to perform. I got up on a table, demanded the DJ play Crazy In Love and tried to do the full Coachella routine.

But I ended up falling of a table and ripped my hired sequin jumpsuit from my groin to the neck, and my boobs popped out.

I left the party with a bruised ego, a sprained ankle and a $200 costume hire bill.

Undiagnosed ADHD and coke do not go together.

I became an accidental drug mule

I was packing for a trip to the States and found luggage from my last trip.

Inside it? Cocaine I’d bought in Chicago that I’d unknowingly smuggled back to Sydney. If customs had caught me, I would’ve lost my job, my visa and my parents would’ve disowned me.

If you do drugs, check your bags, pockets and coats before going anywhere near an airport. Thank God I wasn’t travelling through Asia.

It was a near-miss but a valuable lesson learned.

My son found my stash

My school-aged son was rummaging through my tool kit looking for a hammer when he pulled out my stash, held it up in front of my wife and mother-in-law and asked, ‘What’s this?’

I panicked and said it was a grout sample. He bought it. My mother-in-law was clueless. But my wife just glared at me.

It was the type of stare that said, ‘Clean your act up or we’re getting divorced.’

I took it seriously. We’re still married and I haven’t bought a bag since then.

Smart move.

So what have we learned here? Well, for one: cocaine can make men horny but also give them wobbly willies and, in some cases, prone to sex with their cousins.

It can lead to public humiliation, mortifying parenting fails and even result in forgetful users taking risky overseas flights.

Take my advice: skip the lines, and buy heels instead.

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