Bachelor Party 1: One Dose of MDMA

Within a month of escaping the clutches of Sketchy Bill, I was back on my feet and no longer having weird flashbacks of guys named "Razor." The acid was still plentiful, so I generally had a sheet of the stuff laying around the house (ah, those were the days). I also had a single brown pill, the sole survivor of my stash from SF. I was in a bit of a quandary:

Ecstasy, really, should be taken with a single member of the opposite sex, in a space full of red fur, strawberries, and Cocteau Twins. Trust me on this one: you can have lots of fun on it in other ways, in other settings, but this is the way it's meant to be taken.

LSD, on the other hand, should be ingested in large groups, preferably with dwarves and clowns in abundance. If you can, Jaygo and Seej should be hired to do weird video shit on your walls, and lots of Severed Heads should be played at top volume.

Under no circumstances should you do acid around strangers, especially strangers who aren't tripping with you. If you do, you'll regret it. You can trust me on this one, too.

Anyway, my quandary was that I had no female to split this tab of ecstasy with. And it was burning a hole in my pocket. It continued to do so during the rest of the winter--no situation seemed right, no opportunity presented itself.

It was springtime, then, when the difficulty was ended. A white limo pulled up to the curb, and Jim lurched from the dark, smoky interior with a bottle of champagne and a fistful of one dollar bills. He pounded on my door, howling three words that strike fear into my heart:

BACHELOR PARTY, DUDE!