I have a college story
The day I returned from Christmas break, I came back with a few souvenirs from home. Among them was an eighth ounce of marijuana and two gummi worms with four drops of LSD between them, microgram dosage unknown. I hung out in my room for a little while and rigged a waterbottle piece to smoke out of while I waited for my friends to return.
Making a waterbottle piece is easier than you'd think. All you need is tinfoil, a lighter, and a waterbottle. And, I guess, marijuana if you don't want to just smoke the foil. You cover the top with the foil and poke some small holes for the smoke to pass through. Make sure it's an indent so it can hold your weed! After that, melt two holes in the waterbottle. One is to suck smoke through, the other is a rush/carb. Plop your weed in the top, light it up, and enjoy!
So after being high on my own for about an hour, I received a text message from my friend Teddy. I've known Teddy since seventh grade, but I didn't know him in high school because, for reasons unclear to me, he opted to go to a tech school. That would have been fine if he just went into a vocation, but instead he went to college. Pointless. Anyways, his text message was "wanna get high?"
One funny thing about Teddy is, his family is the poorest one in my entire hometown. He doesn't have money, didn't have money, and is unlikely to ever have much money. Following this, I knew he would have no marijuana of his own, and the responsibility of smoking him up fell to me. Well, if you know me, and you probably don't, I'm very stingy with my marijuana. After all, it's MY marijuana. I paid for it with money I earned, why should I share it with you? But, Karl Marx said "from each according to his ability, to each according to his need." More recently, Ludacris said "let's get high, let's get high." And who am I, a meager college freshman? Did I deserve to flout the words and wills of men known by every stoner in the USA? Certainly not.
So I made the five minute trek up to Ted's room in Roberts Hall.
I lived in Chestnut, which is adjacent to Roberts. It is ordinarily not such a bad walk, though Ted's room is on the third floor and it was a bit of a hike. More problematic, the doors to the building are not always unlocked, so if I want to smoke with my friends I have to wait for someone to open the door. Today, people were coming back though, so the doors were unlocked and no one hassled me.
Phew.
I arrived in his room and promptly produced my small-but-big-enough-for-my-purposes package of marijuana. In a few minutes we had macguyvered another waterbottle piece and had begun smoking. "When's Dan getting here?" I asked.
Dan is Ted's room-mate, and a far better stoner than Teddy will ever be. The italian stallion, the man with the plan, and more importantly the only one of us who owned a proper piece. Dan can be a prick, but he's fun to smoke with and I'm a huge prick anyways so it doesn't matter. We steal weed from one another recreationally too, but that's a Tale for Another Time.
In ten minutes, we had smoked through what I'd brought over and ascertained that Dan was about twenty minutes away from campus. I've learned never to bring all my weed into TedDan's room, because they're weedjews out to steal all the ganja you've got. I was high as fuck, when a knock came on the door. "It's me, Kenney."
My friend Michael Kenney's first name is actually Alex, but when I met him I was drunk and thought he looked more like a Mike, so I have called him Mike ever since. Luckily for both of us, people call him by his last name, "Kenney." He is the only one in our little stoner circle who owns a car. Kenney doesn't smoke much, being more of a drinker at heart, but he knows better than to drive drunk. At least, he knows better than to do it when I'm in the car.
We played Mortal Kombat vs DCU until Dan returned. That's when it hit me.
"Guys, I have some acid in my fridge. Should I take it?"
"Nobody cares," Dan responded, almost too quickly for my liking. Kenney and Ted snickered. Traitors, traitors all.
In situations where there's no right answer, I turn to the magic eight ball application on my iPod touch. It's a nifty way to decide if the group deserves another bowl, five guys or friendly's, or whether you should eat your LSD worms.
"It is certain."
Ten minutes later and two gummi worms were stuck up against my gums and it was waiting time. I returned to Ted's room, and we relocated to Kenney's room because it has two televisions, both HD, as opposed to the TedDan room which has one, non-HD television.
It was about thirty minutes after that when it started kicking in. Adventure Time was on the television. "Are the colors shifting all the time on the TV, or is it just the acid?"
"No, Amir, it's the acid."
"No way, man, it's the TV show. You're lying to me!" I changed the channel. The colors continued to shift no matter what program it was. I pulled out my iPod to change the song, which had been America's "A Horse with No Name" for about fifteen minutes. The letters were moving ever so slightly. "Oh, it's the acid."
Ted and Kenney decided to go to Best Buy because Ted had a gift card. I had never been in public on LSD, and decided that tonight was the night. I could feel it in my eyes, my head, my bones, even my
soul -- this was the day, the night, the time of my youth and man, I was tripping harder than I had ever before.
It was good, great, magic even, man, like you couldn't even imagine. The vibes were warm and wild and wonderful and all I wanted was to be like this forever, and and and and then IT happened
i was in the dvd section and suddenly
i wasnt me,
i wasnt anything
i was a small piece of a universial consciousness, just a flicker in a grand tapestry of breathing energy just
And then I was me, v, again. Standing in the DVD section of Best Buy, tripping and looking like a damn fool. My friends found me and we departed to Friendly's.
I don't feel like recounting my time at Friendly's, but I ordered a milkshake. I will say this, though: If you have never tried to order food on LSD before, don't. Maybe that's common sense, but not for me, especially not when I was on acid.
When we got back, I went to my room. I was done suffering these fools. I opened up my new laptop that I had received for Christmas. I browsed the internet, smiley as all hell.
I'm not sure when I started, but I ended up making
this post. A little while later, one ivysaur either PMed or VMed me, I can't recall which. A little over an hour later and a small coalition of druggies had been assembled on IRC. I distinctly remember having a discussion with ivysaur about whether my Dexter poster was 3D or not, given how Dexter seemed to continually age and deage. It was, of course, the LSD. It took some more time, but I packed up a cone with some weed and smoked it outside, high up on a small cliff.
If you've never smoked a joint under the stars on LSD, you can't appreciate how nice it is. The sky was a tapestry of light, with more stars than I'd ever seen. Were they all real? Who cares. When I came inside,
we watched the Breakfast Club, all of us stoned as shit. It was magical. Sadly, ivysaur had to leave/had difficulties or something, so it was UD, Poppy, Gen (who just got drunk like a rookie), Birkal (sober as a seagull), and probably a few other people I can't remember atm.
And then, the acid still kicking around in my brain, I went to sleep and had better dreams than I knew was possible.
I hope you enjoyed college v-theatre which I tried to portmanteau into veatre but I didn't know how well it would work.
