It was a Sunday morning, and I am at my apartment hanging out alone.
Someone is pounding at my door, which isn't unusal. I open it to see a
friend of mine, a bartender at a popular night spot next door to the local
gay 24 hour drug em****ium called a private club. The bartender, a lovely
gal slightly younger than me looked sma****ng with her large breasts
mysteriously encapsulated within her tight black T-****rt.
She bounced in my door and told me to get ready, we were going to a music
festival that had already been going on for 2 days, but that I had
cancelled
off my must-do list because it had rained the night before. It was at an
outdoor venue that would be under about 2" of water at that moment. But
she
persisted because she wanted to see Journey, so I packed to go.
I say packed, because I had to get our party favors in order, and that
included a smorgasbord of illicit substances. So I got out my trusty $12
Walmart backpack and started to arrange the soon-to-be-contents. First
consideration would be some choice ecstasy tabs that I had picked up that
weekend, so I slipped 10 into a tiny baggie. She told me her friends
would
want some too, so I prepared a duplicate.
Next, I fixed some of my signature cigarettes. I smoked clove cigarettes
and as anyone knows the smell is pretty powerful. I had a technique where
I
would take the tobacco out of the cigarette and mix it with pot in a 50/50
ratio, and then repack the cigarette using a cigarette machine. It's an
easy way to enjoy pot in an outdoor setting without being so obvious.
I figured what the hell, since I was taking my backpack, I'd take some
whippets as well. And, you can't take a whippet without a way to extract
the gas, so I had to pack my whipped cream dispenser - balloons wouldn't
work here, too obvious. Since the dispenser was so big, it would be
charged
inside the backpack and dispensed out of the small dispenser end through
the
top of the backpack. Easy enough, and I'd take a blanket to wrap us in,
since it had rained. I also planned to take some disposable plastic drop
clothes to sit on.
So I took a blanket, laid it out open and folded 10 boxes (24 in each) of
whippets and the dispenser into the blanket. When inserted into the
backpack it looked like, well, a blanket. In another smaller pocket, I
put
the packages of plastic drop clothes, a couple of black plastic trash bags
and in the smallest pocket I put my cigarette pack and lighter in, joining
an ink pen and notepad.
In one pocket went the two 10 packs of rolls, and an optional 1 gram snuff
bullet with ketamine in it. Variety is the spice of life, right? Into
the
other pocket when my 15ml travel bottle of GBL, conveniently encased in an
ear drop bottle.
My friend decided to call a cab, since parking would be a nightmare there.
I only lived about 5 miles from the venue. When the cabbie arrived, he
rung
my phone and we proceeded with backpack in tow to the street. Out cabbie
looked like he had just stepped off a plane from Bangladesh and was
playing
the soundtrack to prove it. My friend and I just exchanged odd glances
for
the duration of the trip while tamborines, sitars and sipsis vibrated
throughout the vehicle.
When we got to the venue, we were extremely shocked and worried to see the
level of security at the only gate into the place. There were policia
everywhere. We had come this far, we couldn't turn back now. I had an
idea.
We got in line, and I unzipped all of the zippers on the backpack, folding
down the canvas flaps. When we got closer to the security check point, I
almost crapped my pants as I saw them patting down people in front of me.
I
had to think quick. Then it was my turn, so I swung the backpack around
in
front of me and said, "All we've packed are things for the mud: here is a
blanket, here is a package of plastic for us to sit on, a couple of trash
bags to pick up after ourselves and this is just has cigarettes and a
lighter." The guy looked me, looked at my ticket, and said "Go on in."
We had a grand time, as you can imagine.
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