|Lycaeum > Leda > Trip Reports > A Weekend on the Other Side|
A Weekend on the Other Side
LSD with meth and marijuana
It was probably the residual effects of Memorial Day weekend that led me to want another weekend of hardcore partying. It was the first week of June 1994 and to that point in my life my drug history was not as broad spanning as it is today. I enjoyed weed on a fairly regular basis, had dropped acid on several occasions, and had used meth only once (see The Weekend I Almost Died). I had partied with the big dogs on several occasions, but it had been several months so the time was ripe to go again.
Memorial Day weekend had been uneventfull until Monday afternoon. I was headed into the local shopping mall when I ran into my pal Josh completely by accident. Josh said he was going to get some acid and wondered if I wanted any. Of Course, the answer was yes. Josh showed up later with two hits of Celtic Cross (the second best acid I have had in my life to date). I dropped both that night at a friend‚s house, tripped harder than expected, and went to work Tuesday morning still a little on the fuzzy side. But that is another story.
My gray day didn‚t actually kick in until about lunch time Tuesday. Fortunately, there were only 4 of us in the office that week and I could skim by with little problem. On Wednesday I was feeling good and decided that I was going to go over the edge that weekend. I put $60 aside for the weekend‚s illicit substances, still unsure what I would be doing or where I would be going.
Thursday I made the arrangements with my friend Josh to procure 6 hits on Saturday afternoon. Four of them were for me and two of them were for another friend who, on hearing about the stuff I had the previous weekend, decided he wanted to trip again (he hadn‚t in almost 3 years). At the time I was working a second job as a teller at a local bank. My friend was to meet me at the local Burger King after I got off work with the goods. Friday was payday and it was a slide. I took off early and went home so I could rest and prepare myself for the weekend adventure I knew would ensue. Saturday I worked my four hours no problem then got a ride from one of my co-workers down to the Burger King were I was to meet my friend. As luck would have it we passed Josh and Joel on our way there and she dropped me off so I could catch up with them.
The adventure started in the locked bathroom at the Burger King. The paper was like bitter candy on my tongue. I had found, through my experimentation, that multiple hits are not best when taken simultaneously, but rather they should be taken at 90 minute to 2 hour intervals, so I pocketed the rest of my booty. We all ate lunch there while I sucked the paper into oblivion in about half an hour. My plan was to extend the hits out to one every 4 hours for the next 12 hours to see what would happen. The best part was that I still had $30 dollars in my pocket that had yet to be spent on drugs.
After lunch we were off from Burger King. Josh and Joel‚s knew a place nearby that we could get crank from, and that sounded like a great way to burn the rest of my cash. We had about a 2 mile walk in front of us so we got going. We were, by their estimation, about halfway there when a cool breeze raised the most exquisite goose bumps on my skin. The warm asphalt seemed to shimmer in rainbows of color and the sky was the most intense shade of blue I had ever seen in my life. The trip was beginning and I knew that I would not be disappointed.
We walked up the steps of this slightly run-down, old, single wide mobile home. As we crossed the threshold of the mobile I looked into the haggard eyes of a woman who was probably in her early 40s but could easily have passed for 60. This lady had all the outward appearances of an old, retired biker chick. I knew this had to be the place.
It was at this point, looking into this woman‚s wrinkled face and old eyes, that I became very aware of my appearance. I was wearing a freshly ironed button down shirt and tie, khaki slacks, and brown dress shoes. This may sound normal for a Saturday morning bank teller, but when walking into a crank dealers house (even with friends who have been there a hundred times) it screams COP in big neon letters. I looked back up as apprehension crossed the lady‚s face. The apprehension turned to a bolt of anger thrown at Josh and Joel. I quickly tried to quell her fears by saying „Your thinking Œcop‚ aren‚t you‰. She looked me over, smiled and said something in jest about that being her first impression. Josh and Joel had a good laugh over that a reassured her that this was not my normal dress, that I was merely just getting off work and hadn‚t had a chance to change. Her apprehension didn‚t fade completely until they explained that I was just starting a bender involving the acid I had just purchased from Josh. She seemed to relax some, and that helped because my trip was coming on pretty good at this point and being in a suspicous environment would not have been good. I just wanted to get my crank and be off.
There were 4 or 5 other guys in the living room of the mobile, so we all mad small tlak while the older lady went out to get the crank. I found out some time after this experience that the mobile we were at was right next door to one of the better „kitchens‰ in the area. Not only that, but the stuff we got that day was „hot off the oven‰. The lady was only gone for about 20 minutes when she returned with two small baggies of slightly yellow rocks. She gave them to Josh and Josh gave me my pick. I took the one that looked heaviest and pocketed it. Josh already had my money, and had given it to the lady, so I made some small talk for about 5 minutes and said my goodbyes. I knew the full force of the first hit was coming soon and I did not want to be in those unfamiliar surroundings much longer.
I walked down the hill that led back to the main road and ultimately back into town when I was hit with my first strong visual. It was a beautiful summer day, warm with a light breeze and not a cloud in the sky. The sun reflecting off the light ripples the wind was making on the surface of the inlet I was overlooking gave the water a prismatic shimmer that simply exuded beauty. The water appeared to drift in many different directions, layered upon itself four or five times, all casting separate reflections of the sky and the sunlight. I stopped at the side of the road and watched the shimmers change over and over again giving the water nothing other than a life of its own. It was breathtaking and beautiful.
After a couple minutes I continued down the hill and turned to walk back into town. It was somewhere around 3:00, and I was floating, completely without a plan. I was a good 10 miles from home with no car and only about $10 in my pocket. I felt free, like the world was my playground.
My immediate goal was a local restaurant where my friends Tym and Paul worked. Ultimately, I was planning on ending up at their house so the two of them, Paul‚s wife Marion, and I could party the night away together. However, the boys were working the late shift and wouldn‚t be off work until around 10:00, so I had the entire afternoon to kill. Most importantly though, I had a quarter of speed in my pocket and wanted to share it with my compadres.
The restaurant was nearly all the way back from whence I came, but the walk was nothing. I was amazed by the shimmer of the sunlight, the warmth of the air, and how every car that went by seemed to pass 3 or 4 times before it was gone down the road. I smiled a quiet smile to myself, let my legs do the walking and simply enjoyed the show.
As I approached the kitchen entrance to the restaurant where my pals worked, I noticed that both Tym and Paul were out having a cigarette, what a pleasant stroke of luck. I approached and we made small talk. Tym quietly took note of my dialated pupils and smiled briefly in recognition. Paul took more verbal notice, as the two extras I had procured were for him. I subtly let on that I had acquired some crank and asked Tym if he would go in the stock room and line it up for us. Again he smiled and his smile was at once hypnotic (as it would prove to be all weekend). I palmed him the baggy and he disappeared into the stock room. Paul and I stepped around the corner to enjoy a smoke and I exchanged his $10 for the extra hits. Paul commented that he was looking forward to getting off work because it had been some time since he had dropped. I told him he would not be disappointed.
About this time Tym appeared from the stock room, lightly rubbing his nose. He lit up a cigarette and indicated that I should go in after him. As I stepped past him he pressed a matchbox into my hands and again smiled with his ever more hypnotic smile. I pocketed the box of matches and snuck into the stock room. On top of a can of paint, lay two, 3 inch, slightly yellow colored lines of fine powder, and beside them a rolled single. I picked up the rolled bill, tightened it, and set it in place.
The line kicked me between the eyes like a hot needle thrust into the corner of my eye, but the pain faded very quickly. Always the thinker, Tym had left a small glass of water beside the can, and I gladly consumed it (fucking drips). Using a piece of TP I blotted the tear from the corner of my eye. In the mirror my eye changed shape slightly and I thought briefly to myself „I love acid.‰ and returned to the warm afternoon air.
Paul needed no nudging, he was in the door as fast as I could clear the path. I lit up a smoke and said my goodbye to Tym, who was working his way back into the kitchen and back to work. My next immediate goal was the Safeway around the corner to get some orange juice. Between the restaurant and Safeway is a nice little road that winds carefully along the inlet. The water continued to drift and shimmer in the beautiful fashion I had taken in so deeply earlier and the sun continued to lightly warm my head and shoulders. About halfway down my journey I was possessed with the most intense feeling I have ever experienced to this day. The euphoria was so complete, so enthralling, so permeating that all I could do was stop, close my eyes, and enjoy it. I expected it to pass, but it clung to me like a warm silk blanket, and I opened my eyes and continued my quest for Safeway. To this day, four years later, that walk between the restaurant and Safeway is the most incredible experience of my life. Never since have I experienced that euphoria. For some reason I had thought that Tym had lined up the entire quarter for the 3 of us, but much to my surprise I found that more than half of it remained as I pulled out a match to light up yet another cigarette.
As I entered Safeway I saw two familiar faces standing over in the produce department and I approached them. It was Denise and Eric, two more friends of mine. They had dropped into Safeway for some milk and other groceries and asked what I had been up to. I told them the brief version of the day‚s events and their response was „right on‰. I told them I was just there for a quart of OJ and asked them if they could give me a ride into East Bremerton (about 5 miles away). I remembered that an ex-girlfriend of mine and I had made loose plans to get together for the evening and I wanted to catch her as she got off work. I bought my OJ and jumped into their car.
We arrived at Tina‚s (ex-girlfriend) place of work quite literally as she was walking out the door. Eric and Denise said their goodbyes and headed for home. I would expound more on the ride into East Bremerton, but I honestly don‚t remember anything but drinking the entire quart of OJ. Tina and I chatted briefly and I informed her of my plans for the day and asked her if she wanted to join in, but she declined. After about 20 minutes her current boyfriend showed up and gave us a ride to her apartment downtown. Her boyfriend had to get to work so he left us alone and we went up to her apartment. I excused myself to the bathroom where I relived my pent up bladder and consumed the second of the four hits. They say that you can‚t taste acid, but I honestly think that a strongly saturated hit does have a distinguishing taste. I simply let it fill my mouth, tucked the paper under my tongue and let it dissolve.
I think I was in the bathroom for quite a while because when I came out Tina was on the phone with her boyfriend and they were obviously arguing about her going out with me that night, but Tina persuaded him to chill out because nothing was going to happen. When she was off the phone I asked if I could make a couple calls. The first was to Marion. We chatted briefly, mainly about the fact that I was headed out there but needed a ride. While we were talking our mutual friend Ed beeped through on her call waiting. As it turned out he was headed out to her place very soon also, so we arranged, via a couple of call waiting flips, for him to pick Tina and I up and take us out to her house. With that all arranged, I proceeded to my next call.
It should be said now that EVERYTHING had become intensely surreal, I simply cannot describe everything. The sheer oddness of the reality around me had, after 4 hours, simply become almost commonplace. To this point in the day, other than the events I have described, nothing strikingly intense had happened. I had a knot in my stomach the size of a grapefruit and my jaw was clenching nearly uncontrollably, but otherwise I was having a nice, general trip. However, this was by no means how the rest of the story goes!
My second phone call nearly killed my high. I phoned my mother to let her know that I was OK and let her know that I would not be home that evening. This is when she informed me that my 15 year old brother had run away to live at his girlfriend‚s. She was pretty broken up over it and I talked to her for a while, but I kept myself distanced from it so as not to kill the rest of my high. I knew TJ just did it because he wanted to be able to use in peace, and that he would be OK. My mom thought it was a personal offensive, but that is another story entirely.
Shortly after talking to my mom, Ed arrived. We all piled into his car and somehow I ended up having to sit in the back. It was QUITE cramped and he blasted Rage Against The Machine through his 400 watt stereo system the entire way. It was actually a rather cool ride.
By this time it was past sunset and darkness had enveloped the Cascade Mountains where Paul, Marion, and Tym lived. It‚s funny, I remember looking up into the deep blue, post dusk sky as I got out of the car, then looking straight in front of me into total blackness. The darkest spot on the entire planet is the stretch between the driveway and the edge of Paul and Marion‚s house after the sun goes down. The slightly glowing post dusk sky provided no light into what I affectionately called „The Abyss‰. For the longest second I was possessed with this feeling that I was lost, floating through space, completely without direction, until Ed grabbed my shoulder and said „Come on frying boy, we are going inside‰.
The contrasting brightness of the inside nearly startled me. Marion was at the table with her sister in law Sandra chatting animatedly about one thing or another. On closer inspection I found they were playing Magic, but I passed on inspecting the cards. Monsters were not what I wanted in my head at this point. The minute Sandra looked into my eyes her face was contorted into one of the most evil of grins. Her teeth seemed exagerated in size and sharpness and the corners of her mouth seemed to stretch from one of her ears to the other. Her next motion caught me completely off guard. She simply reached out with both hands and tweaked both of my nipples through the shirt I was wearing. Electricity coursed through my body, but no that deep erotic electricity, more like ice on your neck while in a deep sleep. I jumped and shouted. This simply provoked her, and she chased me around the house for the next half hour chanting „Neeples Neeples.‰ I laughed and laughed and ran and ran. The house blurred around me and I envisioned that I was avoiding some devil whose sole purpose was to torment my, at that time, intensely sensitive nipples. The chase finally ended as Sandra announced she needed to get going. The time must have been near 8:00 by this time, which meant only one more hour until #3.
After Sandra‚s departure I excused myself to Tym‚s room and changed into a pair of his blue jeans and a T-shirt then I sat down at the dining room table with Marion, Ed, and Tina. We all chatted while Mary and Ed played Magic. Paul called just as I was excusing myself to drop #3, and Mary reminded him to stop and pick up about 6 packs of smokes (I added Marlboro‚s, not generics, and that I would pay him for mine when he got here). I came out of the bathroom, a happy little square of paper dissolving on my tongue, to find that Ed was putting on his jacket and he and Tina were preparing to leave. They said goodbye and warned Mary to keep an eye on me so I didn‚t freak out. I assured them I could handle myself, and they departed.
This is what I had been waiting for. After they had departed Mary whipped out a mirror and I fished a razorblade out of the bathroom. We dumped a fair amount out (leaving enough for a couple more lines when the boys got home) and did the deed. All I remember about the following two hours is chatting and smoking non-stop. I was spinning out of my mind and it was great. I had not lost control of myself and I felt as though I had stepped through the looking glass and was experiencing normal everyday life from a substantially different perspective. The line kicked my trip up a notch and that feeling of euphoria crept up on me for about half an hour. At around 11:00 the boys came clumping up the walk and we could smell booze on them the instant they walked in. Paul had a bag of cigarettes in one hand and a case on Natural Ice Beer under the other arm.
We all crouched around the coffee table and spread out the remainder of the speed. Mary and I did about half of what Tym and Paul did, since we had just lined up about 2 hours previous. And we were off to the races. I grabbed a beer and watched as 4 Pauls sat down in his leather recliner and two Tym‚s went back to retrieve something out of his room. Paul snaked his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled the tiny piece of tin foil from within. Very unceremoniously he plopped the pieces of paper on the foil into his mouth, kicked off his shoes and sat back with his beer. Tym returned with a book and sat down to read while Mary and I continued to chat on and on.
After an undetermined amount of time I began to smell marijuana. I looked over at Paul as he let out a dragon‚s breath of irridescent blue, sweet smelling smoke. He handed the small brass pipe to me while tiny ribbons of smoke curled out of the bowl. Of course I hit it, and the relaxing effects of the weed hit me immediately. I passed the bowl on to Mary and kicked back in the chair.
On the coffee table in front of me was a series of 7 brass candlesticks, arranged in increasing levels of size from shortest to tallest, in a semi-circle around a small, white, marble statue of the Venus D‚Milo. The statue was half turned away from me and Venus appeared to look seductively over her shoulders at me. Then her tiny hips began to sway in a dance of seduction. Every time her robes threatened to fall from he hips, revealing the rest of her body, the cloth would be pulled up and she would continue to dance. This must have gone on for a half an hour. I just sat there, mesmerized by this seductive creature, dancing for my own enjoyment. Slowly the light in the rest of the room faded until there was only a single beam focused on the tiny Venus. The brass candlesticks glowed as golden pillars of light casting prismatic reflections off of the exposed areas of what would have been skin on the small statue. I watched in utter amazement, until Paul‚s brash voice brought me to, „What the fuck are you staring at bitch?‰ I tried in vain to describe what I had seen, but it only illicited laughter from Paul. He reassured me that he knew where I was coming from, but still thought it was funny.
One o‚clock rolled around, and it was what I had been waiting for. Someone had once told me that dropping more than 4 hits at a time made a person technically insane, so I stood up and very ceremoniously stated that placing this small piece of paper on my tongue made me officially insane. I dropped the last of my acid into my mouth. To that point in my life, at most parties, things start to slow down once all of the drugs have been consumed. Figuring that was the case here as well, I sat down and decided to relax my way down into calm serenity. That was a mistake. I had been hanging on to the fringes of reality for 12 hours by not letting myself completely relax and subconciously fighting any intense hallucinations. The minute I let those protective inhibitions slide, the real trip began, precisely 1:22am.
The trip introduced itself as the sensation that I was sitting in the front car of a roller coaster. The recliner I was sitting in had transformed itself into the front car of a roller coaster shooting up and down and around corners. With my eyes open, just in front of me I could see the rail tracks and the cross bar reflecting light as if in the midafternoon sun. I rode the trip-coaster for a good twenty minutes before it finally slowed down and I was able to catch my breath.
As I was recovering from the roller coaster ride, my mind was beginning to fill with a great many philosophical realizations about the universe, politics, and human nature. I had a great desire to share these revelations with my friends, but the acid played a cruel trick on me. In the first stage, I could only express myself in numbers. I tried to describe to Paul what was going in my head, but I was only able to say, „4, 12 17, 53, 19, 2*‰ and so on. The second stage left me only able to express myself, in colors. „Blue, red, purple, green..‰ I stated over and over again, trying to ask where my smokes were. Everyone was becoming quite irritated at this point, but at least they were still laughing. The final phase left me only able to say the word „dude‰. Even as tripped out as I was I could tell that this was annoying as hell. Paul came out of his chair at one point and said „Bill, if you say dude one more time I will KILL you!‰ Fortunately that ended the whole cycle and I was able to speak freely again.
After a period of quiet, colors swirling around me, I began gazing out the main picture window in the living room into the darkness of the night. I let my gaze drift from window to window throughout the room and slowly the windows became filled with swirling, smoky images. Angels and demons, small children and old men and women all began dancing in the mystical world that seemed suspended between the light of the room and the darkness of the night. Each of the 7 exterior windows in the room became filled with its own images. Slowly the gray smoke colored until each individual realm was alive with its own bright psychedlic colors. I felt as though I were drifting in a junction, and that each of these windows was a gateway to another dimension. I felt a strong urge to step through one of these gateways, to journey out into another universe to see what secrets it held. Probably fortunately, the speed was keeping me firmly anchored in the real world. I rationalized not exploring these unknown worlds with the fear of either never coming back, or never coming back the same.
Needles to say I described, to the best of my power, each of these images to my friends. As the images in the windows slowly faded, I lit up another cigarette and tried to tell my three friends of all the visions I was having. The cigarette smoke began swirling about me like a genie, filled with nameless faces. As the faces faded, it felt as though my head were surrounded by ribbons of silk that were rotating endlessly. At once, I was filled with the desire to try and draw what I was seeing. I realized that I did not need to try and capture the images I was seeing, I only needed to trace what I saw on the paper.
I sat bolt upright and requested paper and pen, and Tym told me to hold on while he got them for me. When he returned he did the second cruelest thing anyone has ever done to me on acid (for the first cruelest see Un-Convention-Al) He tossed me a pad of graph paper, grid side out. I felt as though someone had thrown a net of spider‚s web at me and it ensnared my head. I struggled with it for about a minute before I realized what was going on. I flipped Tym off, called him a fucker, and proceeded to draw. Very soon I realized the error of my thinking. I could, in fact, have traced what I was seeing on the paper, if they weren‚t moving. I must have chased this little squirrel like creature around the paper for 10 minutes before I finally gave up and put the paper down.
My attempts to draw having been thwarted, I was suddenly aware of the immediate desire to pee. I announced as much to the room and was met with Paul telling me to go into the bathroom so I didn‚t pee in the chair I was sitting in. I took this as sound advice and excused myself. The walk to the bathroom was much more difficult than I had anticipated. I bounced off several walls before finding my path and eventually the door.
Above the toilet in the bathroom hung a medicine cabinet with mirror. While I was relieving myself, I remembered that someone once told me that you should never look into your own eyes while tripping. Of course, that made me instantly look up into the mirror and into my own eyes. My pupils were small, swirling lakes of oil, surrounded by water that crashed on the shores of the whites of my eyes. Little creatures crawled in and out of the oil, swimming in little circles, then disappearing below the surface. I pulled my vision out until I could see my entire face and my eyes were merely shimmering pools in the constantly changing surface of my face.
My skin appeared as sand, blowing in a soft breeze and, again, filled with small creatures that lived below the surface. Though the creatures were lizard like and frightening in appearance, they filled me with comfort and not fear. I knew somehow that they were part of who I was, and belonged just below the surface (I could explore the metaphorical meanings behind my realizations, but I think you get the picture).
Again I expanded my vision to include the entire reflection of the mirror. This was nearly a mistake. On the opposite wall was the main mirror of the bathroom. It stretched from the countertop to the ceiling and spanned from the door to the bathroom to the opposing wall. A giant reflective surface positioned exactly opposite the mirror I was currently looking into. Vertigo overcame me as I fell into the eternal reflection generated by the opposing mirrors. I was walking down a corridor with no end. I walked eternally, passing an infinite number of images of myself. After several minutes I was aware that I wasn no longer sure which one of the images of me was the real me and not a reflection. Fear crept in, and when I finally returned to what I believed to be myself, I was filled with the feeling that I wasn‚t the real me, just one of those infinite reflections. I quietly asked myself „Am I the man in the mirror, or is the man in the mirror me?‰ At this point I returned to the safety and company of my friends, and I never wanted to go into that bathroom again (in fact I got the chills for several weeks thereafter whenever I would go into the bathroom).
Upon my return I tried to tell everyone about what had happened in the bathroom. It was met mostly with laughter, and Paul‚s comment of „You idiot, you should know better than that.‰ We continued to laugh, talk, and pass the pipe around. We had a ball.
It was nearing 5:00am and the chatter had died down. Marion had already retired and Paul was soon to join her. Tym was sitting across from me reading one of his gay porn novels (Tym is bisexual), looking up every once in a while to ensure I was ok or to chat with me briefly before returning to his book. Ever present on his face was that hypnotic smile that had captured me earlier.
Whoever said that watching the sunrise is one of the best things you can do while tripping was a master of understatement. I sat facing the window behind Tym as the sun came up and filled the yard, the glass, and the room with light. I was in awe of the beauty of the darkness being expelled by the light. As the living room filled with dawn, Tym‚s long brown hair began to glow like an angelic halo around his head. His ever present smile added to the angelic illusion as the flaws in his skin dissolved, the faint whiskers around his beard disappeared, presenting a perfect visage, akin to looking into the face of divinity. I told him as much and he told me that I just needed to get some rest, smiled, and said he was going to go lie down.
Fear crept in. I was STILL IN THE MIDDLE of the most intense experience of my life and all of my friends had abandoned me for sleep. I paced for about 20 minutes wondering what I was going to do and afraid of being alone. I then decided that all I could do was try and get some sleep. I laid down on the couch, unable to close my eyes. Suddenly a black streak crossed my field of vision, starting at one end of the room and ending in the hallway. After a second or two the tail end of the streak caught up with the beginning and I realized it was Paul and Mary‚s black cat Lucky. He licked his paw and stared at me with these vibrant gold eyes, like he not only knew what was going on, but somehow was giving me his approval. In a long black streak he entered the kitchen and disappeared.
I looked at the wall behind where Lucky had been sitting and it was slowly filled with this complex system of very organic looking veins. The veins began to pulse as though filled with blood and glow first neon red, then blue, then purple, then yellow, then they slowly recessed into the wall. There was no way I was sleeping.
So I decided to take a shower. That was an amazing idea. As the water coursed over my naked body I felt it wash away all the sweat, and grime, and fear, and fatigue, and leave me completely refreshed. The walls in the shower were covered with this beveled tile that seemed to shift and melt the entire time I was in the shower (about 45 minutes). Upon drying off and putting my clothes back on I felt entirely refreshed. Everyone was still resting (I knew none of them were really sleeping) so I decided to step outside and enjoy the morning. Laying on the front porch was an air rifle in the shape of an M-16. Of course I picked it up and walked the front yard, lost in the fantasy that I was on border patrol in a post-appocalyptic world. I was the morning watch and I had to keep the bush people off the porch until the sun was full in the sky to chase them away. Every time I fired that gun into the bushes they seemed to retreat a little and recoil at the sound. When I returned to the house, Marion had stirred and was sitting at the kitchen table smoking a cigarette. What a good idea, I joined her.
She asked me how the night had gone and I related it to her, including how I had fought off the bush people. She found it quite amusing, the entire story. With Marion up and my wits coming more and more about me I was able to bring everything back to a normal, comfortable trip by about 9:00am. I had peaked, HARD, for 8 hours! But the trip wasn‚t done yet.
Slowly the house began to stir, and everyone was back milling about by noon. The boys had to be at work by one so I hopped a ride with them into downtown Bremerton. Bremerton on a Sunday afternoon is a ghost town at best. Still tripping pretty good, I made my way to a little coffee shop called Café Zoo where I knew I could find some of my friends. I expected to see tumbleweeds blowing by at any given moment there was such an absence of life. At the Zoo, sitting at the first booth were Joel and Josh. The weekend and come full circle. They asked me how the rest of the day had gone and I told them in gross detail. They loved every minute of it. We had several cups of coffee and I started to think that I was coming down. Little did I know. I stood up to go to the bathroom and looked across the coffee shop. The floor was a large black and white checkerboard pattern and that was the last thing my mind needed. For a brief second I was stunned and lost in the pattern and had to meander my way across the floor to the can. Once there I opened the door to yet another unsettling surprise. The floors in the bathroom at Café Zoo were very uneven, with rolls and bubbles everywhere. On top of this uneven floor is a mosaic of tiles in blue green and purple that spell out „Men‚s‰ at the entrance and have little shapes and figures in the mosaic, throughout. It took me five minutes to cross this floor to the urinal, and almost as much time to get back across it and back to the table. When I got back, Josh and Joel asked what took me so long. I told them they didn‚t want to know, which ilicited laughter from both of them.
It was creeping into evening time, and I had had too much coffee so I decided to try and make my way home. I went back up to Tina‚s apartment building (just down the street from the Zoo) where I knew my friend Leslie would be by herself (her boyfriend, my friend Drew was at work). I coaxed her into giving me a ride home and crawled into my own bed around 8:00 Sunday night.
If there were ever a weekend I would like to live over again, this one is it. Everything was perfect and flawless. It took me two full days to recover from the entire incident, which actually culminated in my nearly doing something VERY stupid on Tuesday evening, but that is a bad story and not worth repeating.