Citation: Reinhardt. "Smooth on the Powder: An Experience with Cocaine & Alcohol (exp29424)". Erowid.org. Jul 17, 2007. erowid.org/exp/29424
||(powder / crystals)
There it was, chopped up into some nice heavy lines on the mirror. My buds and I had all thrown in and these lines were coming off a serious mound of coke. I had blown a couple times before this, just the hang out and get talkative type of deal, but tonight I decided to push the pile a little and do a little extra sniffing to pre-game the sorority mud-wrestling night I was heading out to watch- the mud wrestling tournament is an annual campus bash that opens with some downright rawkus mudwrestling and then a mad party after, so I was looking to get motored for serious on the yay.
We each rolled up a bill and took turns down at the mirror clearing off those lines. The coke came on just right, I pulled it back and as the remains of the line dripped down into my mouth and as my sinuses, gums, and lips start to numb a little, the coke takes hold and all of a sudden there's a definite sharpness to my whole game, a wolflike prowling type of mood. One of my buddies, Barry M* started talking crazy about Dukakis for president or some shit, like, in '88. Apparently he was trying to make some kind of joke but it just didn't make sense. But that set all of us off talking and it was with some difficulty that we tore our asses off the couch, took some shots and headed off to the Mud Party, wearing our heavy shades and each toting a little gram bag for the road.
Walking across campus to the party we were all pretty coked up and joked around, talking about old cartoons and grade-school teachers we wished we could've fucked. On the way to the party we ran into some chicks we knew and they were kinda coked up themselves. All they could talk about was how much they hated the international students, which I didn't agree with, I liked those crazy foreign motherfuckers. My bud Art P* pulled a fast one and pretended HE was an international student from Belgium and the girls clammed up real fast and tried to dig themselves out of their hole, embarassed as hell, but then Art P broke it to 'em that he was just goofing and they were all omigod, you know how girls do.
When we all got to the party we decided to re-up a little, so us and the girls went upstairs in the frathouse and found a little corner bathroom and did some lines off the little metal ledge below the mirror, except my buddy Barry M* had lost this bet, so he had to do a line off the toilet seat. I forget what the bet was about, something to do with telling this old lady that this gravity bong this engineering dude made was a humidifier for her room and trying to sell it to her or some shit, and having to do a Japanese accent, which was tough for Barry cause he was half-deaf and never learned to talk right, even though he's one of the smartest dudes I know- he just talks funny.
Anywyas, the lines did the trick admirably and with an air of crystal clarity and tremendous inner strength. On account of the coke and I have to admit our natural studliness (and babliness for the girls)- we walked out to the backyard of thr frathouse to watch the mudwrestling. I've jabbered on long enough, but suffice it to say that the restling was hot, the dancing was filthy, we took some bumps partway through the dancing part, and ended up going home with the coke babes from before.
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