Fuckin' Fiction

It’s interesting going to a rave. A party where everyone is guaranteed for everybody to be on drugs. And mostly happy drugs like extacsy, or “molly” a powdered version of MDMA that doesn’t last as long, and doesn’t leave you feeling as rough. Others choose acid, or xanax, or whatever, but usualy that’s because they couldn’t get a hold of the “club” drugs. I went thinking, that I would have some beer, maybe pop a klonopin(a benzodiazapam, simialr to valium or xanax). I took one and pre-gamed a few beers, I figured I would be asking my partner in crime.

I told him we needed baby sitters. We used to do that, have baby sitters when we knew we were getting totally wasted, he was going to be rolling.

However once I arrived, I realized we were the baby sitters, the drug vetrans(marines in the field), a couple 25 year olds who have been eating various psychotropics since we were 16. The average age at the club, was probably 16 until 12 anyway.  My buddy scored me some molly, and after scoping the place out I realized that I was in no danger. I was more in charge of myself fucked up, more than these kids could ever be.

Not to say I didn’t violate a few faux pas, like bringing my prescription bottle out in public to give people k’s. It’s not bad to give people k’s just bad to flash the bottle when the police are around, and they were. One person left in handcuffs, it was suspected he was the molly distributor. I didn’t get a good look.

For the most part I had a euphoric time and behaved myself and everyone was friendly. I treated it as a conference and would introduce myself to people and they would introduce themselves. I would ask them what they do, meaning occupation, but usually got resposnses like “Sitting here”, “Enjoying myself”, or “uhhh”. I should have taken the hint that this was not the way to behave at a rave. It wasn’t until one answer, that I became disheartened and start trying different methods. I introduced myself, and asked what someone did, he said “I work at Wendy’s”. I felt bad, I mean sure he was probably only 16 or something, and that’s respectable, but again, it made me realize I was the old man. I’m the wolf in sheep’s clothing, trying to be a vegetarian.

All the girls were friendly and I even propositioned dates, and got turned down….a lot. but it was a really positive experience for the most part. This one girl approached me, and she was like, I like the look of you guys, referring to myself and my partner in crime. She then asked what I thought her age was and I said “22″, she laughed her ass off. She said “I’m 14″. I got a kiss or two on the four head…when you’re on ex that doesn’t really mean anything except maybe you have a bumpy forehead and the girl wants to know what that feel slike on her lips.

So at 11 the crackdown began, which means they kicked out the supremely underaged….and kept the semi-underaged he looked good. The started to sell beer at this point, so I bought a sparks at sat down. This girl who had been hanging out with me an my partner and was a good companion was pretty fun. My buddy said she kept saying she likes geeky guys and maybe I should ask for a date or something. Having a little molly left in my system I did, I did it as eloquently as I could. I was rejected. It was nice. But the molly pretty much dried up then. I began chugging sparks and eating k’s like there was no tommorrow. I convinced my buddy it was time to go. He brought two girls home with us. When I got home I drank a beer, took another k and passed out. I don’t know what they did, but apparently the girls left at 6am.