Reacclimating myself to warm weather and sobriety.
I had been drinking quite a bit so when the little pixie sitting on the couch asked me to "have some chips and salsa" I was far too intoxicated to pick up on the numerous hints that she was dropping that there was more than tomatos and cilantro in there. Five minutes later we had polished off the majority of the salsa and thats when she pulled out the small bag of psychedelic mushrooms and added some more.
It dawned on me instantly what I had just eaten. There was no going back. Just enjoy it. Fighting it will only end in tears.
So I stood up and began to wander around. Feeling a bit ansy. Near the door I bump into the pixie again. She nods to her friend sitting near the bar. "We are going to Carolina Beach" she said. Then she grabbed my hips and pulled mine to hers. "Wanna come?"
Had I been thinking clearly, I would have said "I think I just did." But instead I eeked out a meager "Yes. Yes I would."
Once in Carolina Beach, we had to steal some fire wood for the bonfire. This seems to be a recurring theme in my life. We hit up two home renovation sites for splintered pieces of lumber left by the side of the road either for the garbage man or some creative drunk driver.
When we got near the area where our driver wished to park there was a car behind us with a police cruiser behind it just to act as the caboose of our shitty little train of illegality. When we go to pull off to the side of the road the cops lights come on. A shockwave of tension shot through the car due mostly to the fact that everyone in the car was doing something strange and illegal. We were relieved however, when the car that was immediately behind us rolled by us on the left side and the car was so smokey on the inside that it looked like it was filled with milk. Yay for stoners saving the day. The cop followed them up to just in front of us where he pulled them and began frisking them nearly immediately. We placed a call to someone out of the beach with 4X4 to come pick us up. Meanwhile we watch as another police cruiser arrives on the scene. By this time the salsa had kicked in and I felt like a kid in a candy store but instead I was an adult watching blue, flashing lights.
The Jeep eventually arrived and we began the surreal process of unloading half a house worth of stolen lumber into the back of a Jeep just 20 feet from two excited police officers. It was such a sublime feeling knowing what I was doing and knowing that they would never fuck with me. Cops are much like hyenas. You are ok doing anything around them as long as they already have something tasty to chew on.
Back in the Jeep we were about to hit the sand when the little pixie crawled into my lap. The Jeep accelerated to what was probably an unsafe velocity considering that the sand was very uneven.
Dip. Dune. Airborne and I am trying my damnedest to keep the firewood, the pixie and my mind entact.
We reached the bonfire which was surrounded by a wide variety of jocks, punks, hippies, and yuppies. All cool people in their own respects. Me and the pixie stole a little board that we made our own and used as a bench between the fire and the ocean where we sat and shared a bottle of wine.
Our board was later stolen and used as a sort of Dollar-Store version of a bed of hot coals for walking across the fire. Some guy kept jumping face first into the dirt.
The fire seemed to match everyones energy level as they both tapered off toward 5 AM and people started to crawl into vehicles to hunker down for the night like large, drunken bears settling in for hybernation.
Me and my pixie stole away to the back of a total strangers Jeep Wrangler where we lived until sunrise. No sleep although the pixie did seem to nod off somewhat just before dawn. It was adorable. I kinda wanted to feed her a carrot or some lettuce but then I had flashbacks to my neighbor drop-kicking a hamster into a tree because it bit his daughters finger. So once my mind had effectively shat all over that otherwise cool moment I decided it was time to call into work and tell them that there was no way in hell I would make it there in an hour.
I left a message:
"Yeah, hey. This is Seth. I am not feeling good at all today so I doubt I am gonna make it in on time. I will try to make it in as soon as I feel better. Thank you."
When the message was played in my boss' office you could very clearly hear the gentle crashing of ocean waves in the background. Other than my blatant bullshit about sickness the whole thing sounded like a Corona commercial. The reason being because when I left the message I was staggering down Carolina Beach wearing only one shoe and not really giving a damn about the whereabouts of the other; holding my cell phone to my ear with one hand while the other was wrapped around a half-full bottle of wine that I had been drinking while waiting on the answering machine to pick up.
It dawned on me instantly what I had just eaten. There was no going back. Just enjoy it. Fighting it will only end in tears.
So I stood up and began to wander around. Feeling a bit ansy. Near the door I bump into the pixie again. She nods to her friend sitting near the bar. "We are going to Carolina Beach" she said. Then she grabbed my hips and pulled mine to hers. "Wanna come?"
Had I been thinking clearly, I would have said "I think I just did." But instead I eeked out a meager "Yes. Yes I would."
Once in Carolina Beach, we had to steal some fire wood for the bonfire. This seems to be a recurring theme in my life. We hit up two home renovation sites for splintered pieces of lumber left by the side of the road either for the garbage man or some creative drunk driver.
When we got near the area where our driver wished to park there was a car behind us with a police cruiser behind it just to act as the caboose of our shitty little train of illegality. When we go to pull off to the side of the road the cops lights come on. A shockwave of tension shot through the car due mostly to the fact that everyone in the car was doing something strange and illegal. We were relieved however, when the car that was immediately behind us rolled by us on the left side and the car was so smokey on the inside that it looked like it was filled with milk. Yay for stoners saving the day. The cop followed them up to just in front of us where he pulled them and began frisking them nearly immediately. We placed a call to someone out of the beach with 4X4 to come pick us up. Meanwhile we watch as another police cruiser arrives on the scene. By this time the salsa had kicked in and I felt like a kid in a candy store but instead I was an adult watching blue, flashing lights.
The Jeep eventually arrived and we began the surreal process of unloading half a house worth of stolen lumber into the back of a Jeep just 20 feet from two excited police officers. It was such a sublime feeling knowing what I was doing and knowing that they would never fuck with me. Cops are much like hyenas. You are ok doing anything around them as long as they already have something tasty to chew on.
Back in the Jeep we were about to hit the sand when the little pixie crawled into my lap. The Jeep accelerated to what was probably an unsafe velocity considering that the sand was very uneven.
Dip. Dune. Airborne and I am trying my damnedest to keep the firewood, the pixie and my mind entact.
We reached the bonfire which was surrounded by a wide variety of jocks, punks, hippies, and yuppies. All cool people in their own respects. Me and the pixie stole a little board that we made our own and used as a bench between the fire and the ocean where we sat and shared a bottle of wine.
Our board was later stolen and used as a sort of Dollar-Store version of a bed of hot coals for walking across the fire. Some guy kept jumping face first into the dirt.
The fire seemed to match everyones energy level as they both tapered off toward 5 AM and people started to crawl into vehicles to hunker down for the night like large, drunken bears settling in for hybernation.
Me and my pixie stole away to the back of a total strangers Jeep Wrangler where we lived until sunrise. No sleep although the pixie did seem to nod off somewhat just before dawn. It was adorable. I kinda wanted to feed her a carrot or some lettuce but then I had flashbacks to my neighbor drop-kicking a hamster into a tree because it bit his daughters finger. So once my mind had effectively shat all over that otherwise cool moment I decided it was time to call into work and tell them that there was no way in hell I would make it there in an hour.
I left a message:
"Yeah, hey. This is Seth. I am not feeling good at all today so I doubt I am gonna make it in on time. I will try to make it in as soon as I feel better. Thank you."
When the message was played in my boss' office you could very clearly hear the gentle crashing of ocean waves in the background. Other than my blatant bullshit about sickness the whole thing sounded like a Corona commercial. The reason being because when I left the message I was staggering down Carolina Beach wearing only one shoe and not really giving a damn about the whereabouts of the other; holding my cell phone to my ear with one hand while the other was wrapped around a half-full bottle of wine that I had been drinking while waiting on the answering machine to pick up.
posted by Seth Parham at 5:32 PM
1 Comments:
Fear and loathing in Carolina Beach . . . ;-)
... is there any truth to the rumor that you are indeed the long lost son of Hunter S. Thompson who in a lustful psychedelic drug induced frenzy of passion and ecstacy brought on by ingesting 9 very rare South American lizard tongues while on a book tour in North Carolina did make love to your mother on the Terminal A baggage carousel at the Raleigh Durham International Airport???
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