Of Course Pt. 2

The first voice in my head came shortly after we took off form the House Party. It was that voice telling me to go home, that things were only going to get worse; either I was going to make an ass of myself or I was going to make an ass of myself in front of someone I don’t want to make an ass of myself in front of. There really was no way around it, except to get back to my small apartment and sweat the rest of this hellish experience out quietly, watch cartoons on DVD or something. But no, that other voice came in from the back door, smelling of cheap cigarettes and whiskey, polyester suits and Jheri Curl juice. This was the voice that visited me often back in the old days, this one got me into a lot of shit, but it was fun I must admit, at least at the time it was. There was always that next morning to contend with, dig? When the other (Good) voice would lament over whatever atrocity I’d gotten “us” into, asking why I’d decided to bring that particular girl back to our nice, decent apartment, knowing that it was going to be a bitch trying to get rid of her before the first cup of coffee, explaining that everything that I’d said was simple pillow talk; no strings, no guilt was my vibe at the time. My Evil Voice was all about it, where my Good Voice was left in the back, the door to my common sense area locked and bolted after the first pint. I’d just made 30 a couple of months prior to this night and the Common Sense Center hadn’t been built into Flynn’s Low Rent Brain Apartment Complex yet.

I won’t bore you with the conversation that went on in the car before we reached the warehouse party, simply because I can’t remember it completely. What I do remember is the pains of paranoia; the fear of prison, and the tightness of the noose. I was still concerned about the government satellite and how much information it had gotten from me before we got into the car. The shakes were running at top speed by the time we got to the place. Everything was a wavering haze, like being out in the desert, it was hot, I was sweating, and I was a wreck.
Bill grabbed my arm as we filed out of the car, keeping me going in one direction without failing, good ol’ Bill. Rick seemed to be doing better then before, not staring off into the sky for too long, and Marion was still going on about walking around the city, which we kept refusing to do. Once we hit the front gates of the warehouse, everything went from kindly weird to that David Fincher styled surreal where you can’t really tell what’s real or not, you just know that you have to get out. But I was in for the long haul, dropping out now would be a mistake, I would have to walk home, or find some poor fucker to drive me. Bill had to keep an eye on the other two, I split now and I’m alone in this, with that goddamn voice in my head for company. He said to keep going, and I did, straight on into the crowd outside the front gate.
Faces seemed too close to decipher who anyone was, different scents wafted through me and I felt ill. I could smell beer though and for some damn reason it gave me hope. I should have been put down but no one had a gun, just a goddamn keg.
We went through the crowd of tattered hipsters, slurping down plastic cups of Pabst, smoking cigarettes, looking cool in their corduroy, and cardigans; like death in a top hat and black leather hot pants.
We made our way to the back of the warehouse, there weren’t too many people around this part of the place, and most of them were up front watching a band play. It was loud and I couldn’t tell what kind of music it actually was, it could’ve been Polka music for all I knew.

A chick came over to us and began talking to Marion. I heard Marion say that she was on shrooms and wanted to take a walk around the block and they took off. Rick told Bill and me that he saw someone that he knew and away he went. Bill asked me if I wanted a beer and I said yes. He fought his way through the thick field of moptop plants and vanished into the thick. I was alone, leaning against a wall, sweating. I lit a cigarette of my own and tried to get my composure in line. The Evil Voice talking to me all the while:

‘That’s right son, light them shits up, there ya go. All the ladies will be here in a minute, just give it time, flash that sly smile like a Hellblazer baby, just a little bit though, don’t’ want to give off too much now, remember, we’re a bad muthafucka, and no one’s got nuthin on us man, we’re the shit, yeah dig it. Just be cool, okay check this shit, here comes a chick we know, I’m sure she’s single, she’s coming this way, play it cool baby, we’re going for a homer, knock it out the box baby, show em’ what ya got.’

I could here my Good Voice banging on the back door, trying to get out and save us, but it was locked tight, and Evil had the key.

This girl did indeed come over, her name was Farah, and I hadn’t seen her in a while. I could barely see her now.

“Hey Flynn,” She said, cocking her head slightly, looking up at me. “It’s been a while man, I wouldn’t have thought to see you here, I thought you didn’t go for warehouse parties anymore.”

I tried to come up with a decent response, from what I could make out she was kinda cute, but I still had the haze on me.

“Yeah well, ya know, people think cucumber taste better pickle.”
‘Oh snap, ya fuck up man!’ Evil screamed in my ear.
‘Where the hell did that come from?’ I said to Evil.
‘I don’t know man; just roll the dice, maybe you can make a saving through with a +2 in bullshit?’

“You’re so funny sometimes Flynn.” Farah said giggling.
“Yeah, must be the drugs.”
‘Oh damn, ya fucked up again son!’ Evil yelled.
‘Damn those saving throws!’ This I said out loud, yes, I said it and Farah heard me, yes, think what you will.

Farah got a queer look on her face and said that she just wanted to come over and say hello, nice seeing ya, etc etc. She walked off looking back once, and then made quicker steps to get away from the drugged up and goofy guy.

‘Great one Flynn, you just blew a shot with her, now we have to find someone else for the night.’ Evil said, seemingly disgusted.
‘I don’t think I can handle that right now.’
‘You’re not doing the thinking anymore son, leave it all to me.’

Bill came back with a couple of plastic cups. “It’s Pabst.” He said.
“Good, good.” I took a pull and it was cold going down and it soon made me feel a little better.

Bill and I stood around for a while rappin’ about this and that. Every now and again he’d get a look on his face which told me that I’d said something either incoherent or just plain dumb, and every time I told him to pay me no mind; “It’s the damn shrooms and this voice in my head, nothing to worry about.”
‘Fuck you jackass!’ Evil said. ‘I got feelings too bitch!’
‘Shut up!’ I yelled to Evil.
‘Oh, that’s it man, I’m sick of your shit, I’m kickin’ it up a notch!’

I soon felt to urge to down the rest of my beer and go for more. I told Bill that I’d be back with two more and made my way through the crowd of plaid shirts and cool haircuts.

Half way through I could see my destination in sight, but it was covered with ants, giant ones. They were dressed as most of the hipsters but with big heads and pincers. They were crawling over each other trying to get to the spout. It was sickening and decadent. They didn’t seem to notice or care that I was staring, they didn’t seem to notice me at all. I took a few steps closer to try and get a better look.
‘This is the damn shrooms doing this, that’s all. The kegs right in front of me, it’s just people.’ I thought.

‘Yeah right,’ Evil said, ‘unless you can get out of here, you’re in for it. You’ve peaked chump. There’s no turning back until you come down, good luck son, I’m out.’

And Evil was gone. It was just me, the shrooms, the keg and a bunch of giant ants trying to get a damn beer, and my cup was empty.

One of the giant ants stopped crawling for a second and gave a look in my direction, it crawled over some other ants and stood in front of me, I couldn’t tell what expression it was carrying, but it had teeth, I could see that, then it spoke:

“Hey man, what’s up?” It said, between the crowd and the band of giant ants on stage its voice seemed high pitched and nasally.

“Uh, not much.”

“You don’t remember me do you? I used to hang out at The Winchester, it’s been a while though, and didn’t you go out of town a while back?”

“Yeah, Texas, big state, big mistake. Listen, I gotta go.”

I turned away and found myself surrounded by a warehouse full of ants. I saw Rick on one side of the room talking to four ants in plaid shirts, Marion was chatting with a couple of ants wearing wigs and skirts, Bill was rappin’ with an ant in a black jacket, smoking a cigarette, like he was the hymenoptera gang leader, a rebel without and antennae. This was too much to take, I had to get out. I fought my way through the crowd of ants and pulled Bill away from Adam Ant and tried to make things as clear as possible:
“Dude, ants everywhere, on the keg, on the floor, wearing clothing, government conspiracy in the beer, we gotta get out of here or we’re next!”

“Flynn, you really gotta lay off the shrooms, man. Seriously, you’re fucked up.”

“Yeah, right, shrooms, listen, I’m going, giant ants, tell the others that I’m out.”

Right then, Rick and Marion came over and said that they both needed to leave, as it turned out, they were peaking as well.

“I wanna walk around on Colfax.” Marion said.

We made our way back to the car, Rick and Marion decided to sit on their balcony and watch the sun come up. I had no idea what time it was and opted to go straight to the sanctity of my apartment.

They dropped me off in front and I waved them off as I got my key in the door and ran up four flights into my flat. The room was breathing on it own and my wall posters were dancing and singing songs, but there were no satellites or giants ants so I didn’t mind. I lit a cigarette and put Coltrane on the Hi-Fi. It was some time before I finally came down, the sun was up and I’d gone through two packs of smokes and several glasses of water (only two beers were in the fridge). By the time I was ready to pass out I’ done enough thinking to conclude that my time with days of tripping were over. Squiggly lines and cartoon characters on the walls I can deal with, giant ants and government satellites I can’t, fuck that son. I’ll stick with grass, booze, caffeine, and nicotine.

Is there a moral to this?

Of course not.