I’ve never really been into the drug thing, never quite got the hook of it, I guess because I’ve always associated drugs with bad luck. My very first drug thing was years ago at this party I’d gone too with some friends who told me it would be a good time. I’m walking through this house when I spy this brass bowl sitting on the coffee table, it looked to be full of blue paint chips. I asked my friend what’s up with the bowl. She tells me it’s full of acid and if I take one I’ll get off. So I watched this chick walk up, lick the tip of her finger and stuck it in the bowl, when she pulled her finger out it had a paint chip on the end of it and she licked it off, grinned, and walked off. So, I’m young, I wanna be down so I lick my finger and pull a chip out and swallow, nothing happened. In my virgin drug mind I expected brisk results. I know, I didn’t take enough. So my young dumbass licks the whole finger and shoves it into the bowl. Out the finger comes covered with chips. I lick the finger clean and I’m well on my way to three of the most fucked up days in my life. My friend runs over, and looks at me, “what the hell did I just see you do”? “Nothing”. She wanted to know why I had taken so fucking much. “I don’t know, nothing happened with the first one, and it just seemed the thing to do”. Fucking famous last words huh. I’m told I was only to take one, maybe two hits, not a dozen or more. Her exact word were; you’re gonna trip your fucking ass off. Fast forward to Saturday night. I’m lying in bed trying to chill. I was scared shitless cause I kept seeing and hearing all kinds of fucked up things. I had just finished watching my bedroom wall sprout a set of bright red Mick Jagger lips and hold a conversation with me. The shadows were pulling shit too. They kept swirling into animal shapes and staring at me. And you know what the worst thing was? I had no control over my body or mind, I mean that during all this there was this voice which sounded like me saying; “you’re cool, it’s gonna be ok, now stand up and go get a drink of water then turn on the TV”. But when I tried this louder voice would say; “shut the fuck up and sit your ass back down”! I was like this small sane voice stuck inside a cell watching the rest of me go apeshit. I kept thinking, what if I never get straight? I couldn’t even dial a phone I was so fucked up. Oh, no. They’re gonna throw my ass into the nuthouse. What will my parents think? I’m gonna die here and no one will ever find me. I was freaking something major. By that time I must’a fallen into a deep sleep, cause when I woke up it was mid afternoon on Monday. I just laid there doing a body check, then I got up and staggered around the apartment.
Friday, December 27
Name: Greg Beck
Home: first bar stool to the left, make mine a Beam & coke please!, United States
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