Monday, July 31, 2006
Pink Pills
“Oh, the rain feels sooo fuckin' good!”
Was it raining? Yea, it rained, briefly stamping down the heat and kicking up cool winds.
What came before?
Oh yea, the phone call.
“Hey, Katherine?” Sniff. “I just got fired.”
“What?! Well, it's good we're fuckin' going out tonight then!”
“Ummm...about that...”
“No! Fuck that! I'm not listenin' to that shit. We're goin' out! Shit, I have the pink pills...”
Oh yum. The pink pills. Well, in that case, who'm I to say no?
The pink pills really speak to the addict within. I recognize my addictive personality. I acknowledge the fact that sometimes, a lot of times, I want to make the real world go away and hide in that tingly goodness that is being high. But the pink pills? Oh, I like those too much. And I don't ever say no to them, even though I know I should.
I finish my trudge home, and there's Katherine, waiting in the lobby. She's wearing that grin I know too well. The we're getting fucked up tonight grin. I flash my own right back at her.
“Let's go pack some bowls!”
In my place, I put my iTunes on shuffle, grab my Lucky magazine, and break up a nugget. I tell Katherine all about my terrible day, how I knew that I was getting fired. I saw it in Joe's eyes. He came out of the meeting, and gave me the guilty shift-eye. Normally he made some lame little joke. That morning, I got the guilt eye, and I knew I was done for.
I hand her my bowl, and she trades me for some pills. Two pinks and a white.
“What's the white one?”
“Eh, a muscle relaxer. Don't worry, you're fine.”
Ok.
My anger dissipates in the coughing laughter of pot smoke and elaborate murder plots. Suddenly, the tension has drained from my shoulders, and all's right with the world.
“Oh man, Katherine. I'm so glad you're my friend.”
“Don't start that sappy shit! Seriously.”
I'm stammering, trying to convey to this woman how much her friendship means to me. She just laughs at me and announces that it's fuckin' coffee time.
Hooray! Iced coffee at an outdoor table sounds like quite the brilliant plan. And we walk and walk around bend after bend of the never ending staircase to the lobby. Four flights of forever looping and we're finally downstairs. I was afraid I'd get lost.
Outside. The air is hot and humid, but the evening sun feels good. I feel the warm glow through my eyelids and it makes me smile. The best way to take everything in is to spin in a slow circle, inhaling it all. Summer smells good.
And I am happy.
Trip traipsing down the street. It's not a long walk to the coffee shop, and my knees are squishy so it feels nice to stroll. I feel the world through my skin. I want to soak it all in.
Sweat is built-in air conditioning. Feel the beads on your arm, and the burst of coolness they bring when blown away by the summer breeze. It's magnificent.
We're here already. Iced coffee is genius. Music swirls around the room. I understand how the paintings were hung, and the pillars painted to allow for maximum music swirling. I smile at the man behind the counter, is he responsible for the music? Katherine reads my mind and asks him what we're listening to. I'm enthralled by the menu board, all so yummy and thoughtfully created to swirl to the beat of the music in your tummy. This is the best coffee shop ever.
And he left room for cream.
Outside. Table. Sit. I can't stop smiling. The world is a beautiful place after all, even when bitches fire you for no reason. I talk some baby talk to the cute Boxer pup at the next table. He flops his head at me. It's hot for puppy talking.
The sky darkens, not just because the night has finally arrived, but because it brought with it a storm. I feel the far off rumble of thunder. I can smell the rain.
“Bring it on, baby!” Katherine yells at the sky. Then she confides, “This heat is giving me a headache, man. Hopefully we get some fuckin' rain to cool things off.”
I smile. I understand.
“So, we gonna go see that band?” She asks me this while she lights a cigarette and looks up at the sky. She gestures towards the bar with her lighter, “They're playin' right there.”
Her words are muffled by the cigarette. If I concentrate, I can taste it. Feel the dryness of the filter against my tongue, the faint aroma of menthol. The ring and middle finger of my right hand twitch. How good would a cigarette taste right now? But, nope. Gotta keep the quit, right?
“Mmmm. I feel...I feel like...I don't want to be in a room inside with a band. I like outside.”
It's night suddenly. Dark and we're walking to the park. The air smells humid and electric. Katherine's headache is worse. She wants to fuckin' lay down or something.
Giggle. Everything is funny. Everything is squishy. If I close my eyes when I walk, I float on a pillow of Nerf. Giggle. Katherine read my mind again, I see her veering left, off course. She grins at me.
“I can walk with my fuckin' eyes closed!”
Swings. I hold the chain and drop my head down. Pit-pat raindrops on my eyelids. Taste one from my lips. Lift my head up, kick my feet out, and I soar with the raindrops. I think Katherine fell asleep on the bench.
My stomach swirls in loop-de-loops that aren't so pleasant, so I glide back home. I lay on my stomach and sway to and fro. I drag my fingers through the wet wood chips. I close my eyes and inhale.
“Hey,” calls Katherine from her bench, “wanna go home and smoke?”
“Hell yea.”
At the end of the walk, Katherine is tired, and wants to lay down. She goes home to go to fuckin' bed. I do the same.
My bed is cool, inviting. I lay beneath my ceiling fan, watching the light show behind my eyelids, all black with flashing beams of red and white. My room swirls and loop-de-loops and toilet. And sick. Eyes closed, bed. Sleep. Dancing red and white beams of energy.
It's morning, and the shower triggers flashes of memory. Was I sick? Did it rain? I've never been so fucked up that I can't remember. Fucking pink pills. So dangerous, I wish I had more.
Thank god I don't.
