Had a good night, had a starvation induced shitty day

I don’t know why I thought of this story, but I did. So, I thought I’d share with you, the kids. It’s a tale of how drugs are a lot of fun, but can sometimes have you staring down the barrel of really gross, spicy, goat meet with a warm Pepsi to wash it down.

I was 16 at the time, a fresh-faced 16. I had dropped out of school the year before, with hopes of becoming a rapper. I still have that dream, although my musical tastes and abilities have expanded a bit [ http://myspace.com/scrublifemusic ]. Although, being a writer is more up my alley now. Anyways…

I didn’t do anything with my days except sleep in, and smoke pot. Needless to say, I was a fucking waste. But, hell, I was 16, better I do it then instead of when I’m an adult.

So, one night we couldn’t find any pot, but my friend was able to score acid. It sounded fun, dare I? I dared. I’ve always been cautious when it comes to partying, so I only wanted to take one hit. My friend fed me 3.

I was sitting on a swing at a school at 12am when I felt, nay, when I knew that right then, I was having the GREATEST time of my entire life.

At that point, my mom started paging me. I use to have a beeper, and it was always important for me to hollar at her. Well, I was high on acid. That was something I wasn’t going to do. So, we stashed out at my friend’s house for the whole night while his dad worked graveyard. I haven’t done acid since then, and I never will, because of the fact it’s so much fun. It’s an intense euphoria, and you get to see some cool shit. It isn’t like a Rob Zombie video or anything, but say for instance my friend sitting next to me turned into Rocky Balboa, and then a stack of car tires. Tracers were incredible. They were so heavy that I watched my friend walk across the room, and then watched his tracer walk across the room. Crazy stuff. It also lasted for about 6 hours, so you got a lot of bang for your buck.

Well, I slept for about 2 hours, and went home to face the music. I got chewed out pretty hard, but, wasn’t around long enough to really have to suffer through it. My friend, Saleem, was having his 16th birthday party. He’s Indian, and they do up things pretty big, so, I was stoked.

Well, I get picked up, and we head out to his Uncle’s house. I hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, before I took the acid, so I’m looking forward to some birthday food. Cake, chips, hamburgers, jeeuh, let’s get it crunk.

We arrive, and Indians love to get their grub on, so they start placing out the food. Wha….wait….there’s no cake. No chips. No hamburgers.

Instead, it looks like Ray Liotta’s brains in a big ol’ pot. They rarely eat this crap alone, as they scoop it up with what is basically their tortilla shell.  Instead, it tastes like dirt, and it’s called  a…well, I don’t know how to spell it, and don’t feel like taking half a second to find out, but it’s pronounced ROW-T. Just like that. Row-T.

Anyways, I’m so goddamn hungry I’m thinking “well, OK, maybe it’s not that bad. Maybe it’ll taste like Mexican food!”. No. Instead it tastes like the streets of Mexico. Then, it comes to…what I have found out is goat meat. Which, they’ve slaughter themselves just for this occasion. Now, that’s love. They warned me it’s spicy. I dig spicy food, and I figured it’s probably about as spicy as your average Mexican dish. You’d think at this point, after being so sorely disappointed earlier, I’d stop using Mexican food as a measuring stick. After this, lesson learned.

This shit was piping hot, man. I mean, clear your sinus’ feel like you’re going to throw up type of hot. Plus, it tasted really fucking gross. Well, spicy as it was, at least I could have something to cool it off, right? Ice water, near-frozen milk, orange juice…NOPE. Pepsi. WARM. WARM FUCKING PEPSI. Soda, cola especially, is the worst to drink when you’ve got something spicy going on. The combination just adds to the slow burn. But when it’s warm? Fucking forget about it, man. Goddamn, I was in hell.

So, I had about a bite of each, and that was that. I heard we were going to a restaurant later, so I had a bright star in the Universe. Well, after sitting around and watching old Saturday Night Main Event tapes, and having to listen to his female cousins listen to some very, very horrible rap/R&B. I begged for some 2pac, some Biggie, Bone Thugs, Boyz II Men, TLC, fuck, anything but 112, or Cash Money. I was given no mercy. No mercy at all.

Well, we arrive at the restaurant. Buffet, all you can eat they told me. HELL YEAH! Those things are always Asian food. I’ll get cinnamon buns, sweet & sour pork, jello, tons of milk, chicken…ooh, it was going to be a great nigINDIAN ALL YOU CAN EAT?!?! You have to be fucking kidding me! It fucking blows I realized it as we were pulling in, had I known when we were on the freeway, I could have lept out and gone crotch first [with a boner, of course] into a semi. But no.

We get in there, and I swear that they must have a back door to this place, and that back door, is the front door to his fucking Uncle’s house. Because this place is just like his Uncle’s, the 7th layer of hell.

So, his family starts trying to force feed me, but I say that I’m full from all the compost they served me back at the house. Oh, and make no mistake about it, this place was all you can eat, so long as all you wanted to eat was spicy goat meat, spicy vegetable, or spicy spices.

I may be starving, oh, and when I get hungry, I get really shaky, and I can’t think, and it’s an over-all awesome experience. Anyways, as I said, I may have been starving, but at least I had my friends to talk too. Oh, but they were drunk. I wasn’t much for drinking in high-school. I didn’t get drunk until I turned 18, so until then, I had to endure tons and tons of nights with people who were fucking smashed while I was sober and dressed like Hollywood Hulk Hogan [it was asked of me]. Needless to say, my evening was getting worse, and worse.

To get away from it all, and hope to find a snack, I went back out to the van in which we arrived in. Lucky me, I was joined shortly there after by my friends who insisted we listen to California Love REALLY LOUD, because inside the only thing the DJ was allowed to play was what I assume the Indian equal of Heidi Mon…whatever the sluts name is.

Most of my friends passed out in the middle of this, and lucky for me, I was able to sleep. Normally I can’t when I’m that hungry. Well, a little while later we FINALLY head back home. I know for a fact we were at that restaurant for no less than 2 weeks. I’d bet my life on it.

We get back to his Uncle’s, and I’ve had 2 hours of sleep in 48 hours, and I haven’t had anything to eat in 24 hours. It’s really rad that they have this giant, delicious cake sitting in the fridge, but feel that they’re going to save it. Life is awesome.

My spot to sleep is about the length and width of a brick, which is great. If only Zagat’s Guide would let you do reviews for people’s houses. Oh, Hank!

I didn’t sleep for shit that night. I was so hungry I felt delusional. Or, it was just a touch of the acid before, who knows. I’m sure Einstein had these same inquiries.

Finally, morning comes. Morning’s here, mooorning is here, sunshine is here, the dark of night has dissaapeeaaared. I almost felt like it was Christmas. Of course, I was the first one up, and since it wasn’t my house, I couldn’t just haul off to the kitchen with my boner and fry up a bowl of Kix. So, I had to lay there, waiting…and waiting…and waiting. Then my friends wake up, and instead of get up and eat, it’s ‘let’s lay here and bullshit’. Which, I’m normally up for, but I’m pretty sure at that point my stomach was cannibalizing both my sack and my spine.

Finally, the moment comes when my friend decides he wants to grub it on. Eating when you’re hung over is the best. So, I’m hoping someone will make him eggs, bacon, toast, the whole nines, you know. Once we get to the kitchen, we see most of the fam, already diggin in. Hell yeah! What we having?

Oooh, and just to be a good writer, I’ll make you kids wait to find out. I promise I”ll post the rest of the story tomorrow. Same I-Hate-Indian-Food time, same I-Hate-Indian-Food channel.


~ by Caliber Winfield on January 22, 2010.

One Response to “Had a good night, had a starvation induced shitty day”

  1. Roti.

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