Citation: lucky. "The Most Ridiculous Day of My Life: An Experience with MDPV (exp91064)". Erowid.org. Feb 22, 2017. erowid.org/exp/91064
Cannabis substitute "spice" type smoking blends, "Bath salts", "plant food", "incense", "tea" and similar products generally do not accurately list psychoactive ingredients or dosage on their packaging. Analysis has revealed that ingredients in a single product of this type may vary over time. The component chemical(s) may be different than what is assumed for this report.]
This is my account of the first time I ever did MDPV aka bath salt. I used to work at a gogo bar and I got suckered into working the open to close shift one Wednesday afternoon. It took about two hours into my shift before a boring afternoon took an unexpected turn.
It was a slow day, as I had expected. We had a steady flow of people coming through on their lunch breaks for beers and stopping in after work. Around 2pm a guy walked in and asked me if I partied. Normally, I don't party. Not the way he meant, at least. It's never really been my cup of tea but I had a 14 hour day ahead of me. I needed to do something to keep from falling asleep in my beer later that night. I figured if this guy had any, I would make an exception.
I always hated blow because I was hyper and wired enough as it was. However, I had noticed that when I did blow when I was having a long day or night of drinking, it kept me from getting that fall-down-drunk effect and from blacking out. I made this recent discovery a few weeks earlier when I was in Las Vegas. We drank heavily and wandered around the strip for 14 hours straight. I remember all of it and I didn't once have the urge to pass out at a slot machine or on the bar. I needed to maintain my composure for hours on end on that Wednesday and not drinking at work was something that didn't quite make sense. Not at this job, anyway.
So this guy I've never met before asks me if I party and I say yes. He was the only customer for awhile so I made conversation with him and realized that he knew another one of our regular customers, my friend Jay, who I was sort of casually dating at the time. He said they were real good friends, that they went way back. This made me much more comfortable about buying a bag of blow off of him.
'I have this stuff in my car that they're marketing as bath salt,' he began.
I was intrigued. I knew I had heard someone tell me about this bath salt phenomenon before.
'Is it an upper? I need to stay awake for hours today. I'm working a double.' I said.
'You'll be awake for days. Don't do a lot of this. It's better than coke. It's very potent.' He explained after I followed him outside to the parking lot. He handed me a glass vial filled half way with white powder.
I find that drug dealers always say things like 'be careful, this stuff is really strong' when they want you to keep buying their drugs. They tell you it's some special drug when it's really just a bag of blow that's probably been cut with sugar or baking soda. I take anything any person giving me drugs says with a grain of salt, especially when they are talking about how strong it is.
'Consider this a free sample.' He said.
Awesome, free drugs. This day can only get better, I thought.
I went into the bathroom and blew the biggest line I've ever done. I assumed since he was giving it to me for free, it couldn't have been that special anyway. I didn't expect to feel anything at all.
That was my first mistake.
It felt like I snorted hot sauce, it burned so bad. My eyes teared up so badly I actually had to re do my mascara and eye liner. Immediately I knew that I had done something that was not blow. Maybe he just gave me a bag of crushed up Tylenol? I started to get annoyed that I actually snorted something as stupid as Tylenol and thought I might get a little wired.
Twenty minutes later I realized that I was high as a kite, grinding my teeth, and I absolutely loved all the music and every single person that I talked to. Everything felt so nice. My clothes were so soft. I was dancing without even thinking about it. My body was actually just moving to the music on its own with out me having to force it. Dancing, although it was my current profession at the time, was never something that came naturally to me.
I had tried enough ecstacy in my life to know exactly what I had just put up my nose now. I had snorted molly once before, too and it burned just the same. This was going to be a long day.
I enjoyed myself for the next few hours as the customers came and went that afternoon. The day shift had a whole different cast of characters that I had never met working nights. I felt like I was making new friends left and right but in actuality I was just having insane conversations that trailed off and stopped making sense after a minute or two. The manager that worked during the day was sweet and didn't get on my case about much of anything. She didn't seem to notice my sudden attitude adjustment or the fact that my pupils had completely taken over my eyes, which were fused open.
My friend Jay stopped in at some point in the early evening, before the night shift started and I told him about how I met his friend earlier and snorted his mystery powder. 'What the Hell did your friend give me?'
'What the Hell did your friend give me?'
I asked, slamming my hands on the bar counter in front of him. I looked him in the face, wild eyed and smiled. 'Oh no, you snorted the bath salt? What were you thinking? That could have been anything!' He said, concerned for my well being but still laughing.
'It's MDMA isn't it?' I asked.
'It's similar. It really is being sold as bath salt but it's illegal in several states. He's got a whole bunch of it, gave a bunch to me too. It isn't coke! He told you it was coke?'
'No, he told me it was bath salt. I assumed it was probably just coke. Or baby powder.' I explained.
He laughed it off and told me to make sure I was careful and drank enough water; standard things he would say to a person who just took their first E pill. I told him I had done plenty of drugs like this before and I'd be fine. He left for awhile and I found out later he had a word with his buddy about giving me drugs like that.
At 7pm the night shift began and a new manager took over. Everything went down hill from there. This particular manager had a little bit of a crush on me. A crush is actually an understatement but I'm just going to leave it at that for now. Telling him that I wasn't interested in dating him didn't seem to deter him from pursuing me. Every time I deflected his advances and suggestive comments he became angry or upset. He would try to make me feel guilty for allegedly playing games with his head. Now I was stuck working a shift, high as a kite, with a manager who was on a heart broken warpath against me.
My manager got on my case about every little thing I did. If I was 30 seconds late on stage he was yelling at me. If I was talking too much to a customer, he was yelling at me. I felt him staring at me the whole time I was on stage. I felt his eyes burning holes through me. Or maybe I was just paranoid because I was on drugs. But he was definitely on my case more than usual, more than he was with the other girls. He blatantly warned me once not to mess with him or he'd make working with him very uncomfortable. He was certainly following through with that warning.
A random friend from college had stopped in the bar at one point and my manager became jealous that I was giving him all of my attention. He walked outside while we were in his car smoking a blunt. This did not go over well at all. He kept calling me into the office to lecture me about breaking rules. There were times I just wanted to scream at him 'I'm on crazy drugs, do not even mess with me right now!' but I figured that would definitely get me fired. Hell, if he was feeling particularly spiteful he could have even had me arrested.
I couldn't even handle being on the stage anymore because I couldn't deal with everyone looking at me. I thought everyone was talking about me. I was scared my manager was going to find out about the bath salt. I had smoked myself into a paranoid frenzy at this point.
The night wasn't all bad. I tried to make the most of the situation since there wasn't much I could do. I was having a few beers but the manager soon enough told Sasha, the bartender, that I was cut off. I had played off that I was just drunk. Laverne, one of the other bartenders that works with us, came in that night with her boyfriend just to hang out. After she shared a story about taking shrooms at work at another gogo bar, I confessed to her and Sasha about my bath salt experience. Laverne and her boyfriend were very amused and the three of us and Sasha tried to figure out what exactly was in this mystery powder I had snorted. Laverne got drunk and ended up on stage for awhile, which was a relief to me because I gave up my sets to her.
Just when I thought my night couldn't get anymore ridiculous, someone from my office job walked in. I immediately hid under the bar counter. I crawled into the corner and curled up in the fetal position. The girls tried to coax me out as our manager sat at the far end of the bar shouting that I couldn't be under the bar and I had better come out immediately. The girls finally convinced me to put on Sasha's jacket and run outside with the hood over my head. I bolted out the door and once I was safely outside, I lit a cigarette. The manager followed me out and gave me another lecture about how it was a safety hazard for me to hide under the bar and that I was eventually going to have to deal with someone I know walking in the bar and catching me dancing.
I knew that one day that would happen. Someone would walk in and recognize me. But did it have to be the day I snorted mystery drugs? I was in no condition to handle this kind of catastrophe. I couldn't use this argument with my manager, though.
Just then, the guy walked outside and we both made eye contact. There was nowhere to run or hide now. So I faced my fear and said Hi. He promised he wouldn't tell anyone he saw me there. Something tells me he knew the whole time that I was there, hiding under the bar from him.
Finally the night was winding down and at 1am I begged the manager to let me go home. My set was twenty to the hour and if we called last call at 1:45, that would mean I would have to do a five minute set at 1:40. Just to be a dick, he was going to make me stay and do that five minute set. I begged him to let me leave. All I wanted that night was to go home to my real life and forget that bar even existed. I was fed up. I begged my manager to let me go and convinced him I had sobered up. I wasn't the least bit drunk considering they cut me off after 3 beers several hours ago.
'Go home.' My manager finally growled.
'Am I fired?' I asked.
'No. You've been here all day, you can leave. You don't have to do the 1:40 set anymore.' He said. I grabbed my bag and ran out the door waving good bye and screaming 'I'm finally free!'
I got about 20 feet from the parking lot before my car stalled out and died right there in the middle of the road. We couldn't jump start it. We had to push it into a convenience store parking lot and abandon ship. I had to call a friend of mine at to come get me in the middle of the night while I sat there wigging out. I don't know when I finally fell asleep after all that but it felt like it was years later!
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