Rage
Decided to write about a night I had with friends.
My friend Zah has been drinking and rear ends some guy on the off ramp.
She looks funny as I watch her get out of the car in her leather platforms and gothy fishnet flying at the guy with her sincerity.
Saying:
"I'm so sorry!"
Saying:
"I'm so sorry I hurt your baby!"
And then watching the look on his face. That's the best. Like a southern baptist watching two men make out. He simply says "Its alright." and gets back in his car.
We arrive at our first destination a bit after that.
I'm no good with time frames.
We're going to pick up my friend. Lets call her K.
So we get to K's and She gives me a cloudy pink stuffed elephant. She gives me a drop of lysergic acid diethylamide on a pez to ingest.
Stomach acid.
Face melt.
All systems go in fifteen to fourty minutes.
And this is when I find out that Zah had been drinking.
When she had picked me up, she offered me the fifth of vodka.
Bottle = 100%
We get to K's.
She offers K a hit out of the same bottle.
Bottle = 35%
It doesn't take a mathematician to figure these things out.
K and I go to the bathroom and exchange words in private.
We decide to risk it.
The fifth from before comes up in Zah's hand as we get in the car.
Bottle = 0%
And surprise surprise.
Auxiliary bottle = 100%
K takes the bottle.
Zah starts the car.
We had parked a few blocks from our final destination when the drugs began to take hold.
I remember being happy they hadn't kicked in on the way.
During the freeway lane shifts.
During the three point turn in traffic.
The streets are paved with light.
We get to the rave. It's being held in some rented out Chinese buffet place.
We walk in to the trance intro.
On our right we have the dance floor.
On our left we have a separate room with different music.
In front of us and between the two, the main seating area of the restaurant.
Towards the back of this space, we have the buffet area and the bathrooms.
They shouldn't of left the condiments on the tables.
They shouldn't of left the tables.
The lights cast morphing shadows.
A girl comes up to K to talk, her acne scars deepen and squirm.
A guy I know insists we go to the bathroom and smoke some weed.
We are preparing for SRB separation.
I can smell rent-a-cop.
I say no.
He persists.
I say whatever, and we head to the bathroom.
We get to a stall and he lights up.
His hit.
My hit.
His hit.
My hit.
His hit.
The door opens and security is knocking on stalls.
He tries to hand me the remainder of the joint.
I reject it.
Two stalls away.
He tries again.
I reject it.
One stall away.
He tries again.
I grab it and aim for the toilet.
They knock on the door.
I missed the toilet.
The door opens and my friend suddenly has something really important to attend to.
The weed propelled me far enough for main engine cut off.
Preparing for ET separation.
And one of the security guards in his best authoritarian voice says:
"You"
He tells me:
"Hands against the wall"
His friend goes in to search the stall.
Houston, we have a problem.
I empty my pockets and as I place my hands on the wall I hope.
Its just some dirt.
A piece of toilet paper.
He throws my elephant and I shoot him a dirty look.
The elephant didn't do anything.
"Nothing in here"
And now, neither did I.
I collect my things and go.
Womps and metallic hits fill every sense as I walk out.
People sweating out their ecstasy onto each other.
Womp womp, clank clank.
Pale, hallowed faces come out of the dark and distort as they pass.
Here comes the drop.
Oh boy, how exciting.
I have a seat in the main restaurant area.
How long has it been already? Five? Six hours?
I check my phone.
It's been two hours.
I need my feet to be on the ground.
Maybe they never will be.
I'm David Bowie.
Lost in space.
I want out.
I need out right now.
No.
Be calm.
Buy the ticket, take the ride as Hunter would say.
Maintain.
Orbit insertion.
Weightless, floating through lights and sound.
Ocular spectacular.
Life blurs to a single instant.
That instant is eternity.
Deorbit.
There are puddles of soy sauce all over the floor.
Hardening Sriracha on overturned tables.
They shouldn't of left the condiments on the tables.
They shouldn't of left the tables.
I find K.
I find Zah.
We start our walk back to the car.
We get in and K tells Zah how fun it was to risk our lives.
It was fun of her to down that fifth.
So much fun on the express way between lanes.
Like Russian roulette played with one clear liquid bullet.
The ride home is awkward.
I get to my bed and close my eyes.
I brace for re-entry.
Tomorrow, I land.
Tomorrow, I will be home.