WARNING: I endorse drug use. I didn't change names. And this isn't exactly Hemingway. My best friend challenged me to write him a story he can make a short film about. This one came to mind.
I have always loved Valentine’s Day. Mainly for the outfit options, you know I love to serve a lewk. This particular Valentine’s Day—I was 16—I wore my grey UFOs, a bright red tube top with three straps across the back and whatever matching tennis shoes I could best dance in. I had my hair in two, long blonde pigtails, and twisted up strands of hair, securing them with red heart-shaped stickers. I threw glitter all over my body, put on as many stackable candy bracelets as I could and boom. I was ready to go to the club.
At the time, my favorite spot was the Edge. Nation, the club across the street was more popular, but the Edge was way more fun. All the security guards were drug dealers, and didn’t give a fuck that we were all teenagers on Ecstasy. My girls and I basically ran that club, I’m not even kidding. It was me, my best friend Kelsey and our other best friend Mabel. Kelsey is a hot brunette with huge boobs. I was an athletic blonde, and Mabel was a smoking hot Asian girl. We were like the trifecta of sexual fantasy, and we were only teenagers. We preferred to think of ourselves as the Power Puff Girls. Whatever the case, it worked in our favor and everyone respected us immensely. We got free drugs, and were treated like queens.
That particular night, I decided to take mescaline. I had never tried it before, but I really loved tripping, so I wasn’t too concerned or cautious. At the time I was in love with this guy, Pinkel. He was like ten years older than me (I know, LOSER) and he was into me too. We’d only ever make-out, probably because his old ass was aware that anything more than that would make him a child molester. Anyway, I reallllly liked this guy. He was cute, he sorta’ looked like a Keebler Elf. Omg when he would take Ecstasy, he REALLY looked like a Keebler Elf. Motherfucker’s jaw stuck out so far, we used to joke that you knew Pinkel was high because his chin walked into the room five minutes before he did.
We did the usual rounds at the Edge. We danced, a funny little hopping kind of dance that was popular in clubs at the time, showing off our wide leg pants and glittered torsos. We socialized, commenting on everyone else’s outfits. People really outdid themselves. One of my close friends Justin served a hilarious look that night, he wore an airbrushed t-shirt from Ocean City, and he had shredded the ends of the top and put pony beads on each shredded piece. It was amazingly bad. He always had me in stitches. In fact, once, when I was really high, tripping my face off, Justin straight up pulled balloons out of his pocket and one of those inflate-y things and made balloon animals. Blew my fuckin’ mind. But anyway, that’s a story for a different day. Back to Valentine’s.
We socialized, caught up with all our people. The sun was coming up and we decided, since we were all still wide awake, to head back to Pinkel’s apartment for the after party. Once we got to Pinkel’s, it was time to take off some of my costume and relax. I ate Ecstasy in conjunction with the Mescaline and I was feeling really good. Honestly, I wanted a bubble bath but also really wanted to talk to everyone in the room about everything ever, so I stayed put in the living room. I was sitting with Pinkel, and he was in sweats with no shirt on.
Mabel was getting a backrub from Warren, a sorta’ meathead guy who was in the Pie Kaps (sp?) with Pinkel at the nearby University of Maryland. Kelsey was hanging out with Eric, who we nicknamed Spam, I’m not sure why. Someone had put on Dave Ralph, probably one of the Transport albums. I felt weighed down by the twenty or so candy bracelets I had on, and started to take them off, meticulously because I was weirdly cross faded on some good shit. One by one, I removed each bracelet carefully and placed it in a pile on Pinkel’s chest while he reclined. My eyes WERE SO HUGE. Like totally blacked out HUGE. I was HIIIIIIIGH, bitch! Seriously if you ever get a chance to do Mescaline and Ecstasy at the same time take that motherfuckin’ chance because it’s bliss. After I removed all the bracelets--and there were a ton--Pinkel, was, like COVERED. To my tripping ass, he looked like he was drowning in a sea of candy.
“Ahem,” he said, looking at the pile on his chest.
“Oh, hunny! I’m so sorry!” I started to pick up each bracelet, again meticulously, one by one.
I got them all off and put them on the floor. But when I turned back to kiss Pinkel, I saw there was one pink bracelet left on his chest.
“Oopsie Daisy,” I said in a sing song little girl voice, and grabbed at it.
But it was stuck. I pulled harder, but it was really on there. I pushed my other hand against his chest and really gave it a hard tug, sorta’ grunting, really giving it my all, but this thing wouldn’t come off! It was then that I heard Pinkel yelling. He was shrieking pretty loud.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked me.
I shook my head and my vision cleared and I saw, that wasn’t a pink bracelet after all. That was his nipple! Oopsie Daisy.
Here's a picture of the same top I described. I don't have an actual picture from that night, which is a shame because I'm sure we all looked GREAT.