Encounter in the CD store

[Happas]

okay this is only the second piece i have ever written in 1st person perspective (so don't be alarmed if it sucks) - kind of Thompson meets Salinger (note the name) - i should really post the first one but it has dissappeared somewhere.... Anyway i think i will write heaps more with this character, but i'm not sure just how smart to make him - you may notice that sometimes he seems unintelligent and other times not so

also you'l notice there is no, sort of, introduction, this is because i did all that in the first one...

Encounter in the CD store

It was the last week of the holidays, a Friday, I didn’t have any firm feelings about going back to college, I mean, I wasn’t really scared and nervous like I used to be. I was shopping for stationary, pens, folders and stuff, I’d just about got everything I needed when I decided to go into one of the local CD shops.

It was a really hot day, humid…sticky, pretty horrible really. I was dressed inappropriately in a pair of suit pants and a ridiculous skivvy. I looked like someone who wanted to be seen, and guess this was true, even though I knew that no one could see me, not really, not in this place.

Sometimes I get really nervous for no apparent reason, quite a bit of the time actually, I mean, I’m a pretty outgoing person a lot of the time, but inside I’m panicky as hell; no one seems to pick it up.

Well anyway I went into the CD store because I wanted to buy something by a band called ‘The Birthday Party’, a band Nick Cave was in before the Bad Seeds, really dark, chaotic stuff, definitely my kind of thing. It was even hotter in the shop and I began to sweat a little, my suit pants were already to tight and they were becoming really uncomfortable.

Anyway I searched for about ten minutes for anything by The Birthday Day Party with no luck at all before a short bald man with a moustache came up and asked if I needed any help. After some confusion we found a best-of compilation. I went up to one of the women behind the counter and gave her my bankcard, intending to use EFTPOS. As it happened the guy with moustache was now on the phone to someone so I had to wait till he got off before my card would work. It turned out the guys name was ‘Bob’ that really blew me away, it was perfect. I still wonder type of fellow ol’ Bob really was, what was hiding behind that moustache.

Anyway I was just standing there awkwardly in front of the counter waiting for Bob to get off the phone – pretending to look at CDs just to avoid talking to the middle aged check out chick – when i saw her.

She was with two friends, one of them I’d never seen before and the other one I used to go to high school with but didn’t know very well. She was wearing a tight red top and a pair of plain blue jeans; they served to illuminate her genuinely voluptuous curves (real curves, not like a lot of stick figure girls you see everywhere these days).

Her name was Jasmine and I had encountered her a few times before. My reputation, had of course, preceded me, and she had known of me before I knew of her. It was New Years Eve when we really became acquainted; I hadn’t seen her since then actually.

I can’t clearly recall how we began talking on new years or what we really talked about for that matter, I was really smashed by the time I met her and I’d already been in the centre of a few controversies…it was a horrific night come to think of it, I even found myself in the back of an ambulance at one stage. Anyway, I’d talked to her and we’d made out for a while and that was it – I hadn’t seen her since then.

Apparently she had been interested in me and had actually gone to the trouble of calling up one of my friends to ask about me, I think he put her off by being a little to honest. The last I heard she thought I was just a druggie barstard that thought I was better than everyone else. This isn’t at all true by the way, I mean; I may be a druggie barstard (quite literally in fact, I take a lot of drugs and I’m illegitimate – never met my dad at all actually, not that it bothers me much). But I definitely don’t think I’m better than anyone! Not better, but, not the same, christ, sometimes it feels like I’m not even of the same species as most people.

But anyway, I was in the CD store, right next to her now. She asked if the new Green Day album was in, I hated myself for being nervous then. She was obviously no different to the rest of them. Not real.

Apparently Bob had got off the phone by then, the checkout woman was looking at me in an alarmed way; I had been daydreaming. So I hurriedly bought the CD and went to leave the store. On the way out Jasmine smiled at me.

‘Hey’ I said, in a really, really jovial friendly voice. I can fake it like a master. Her smile grew longer then and she said something but I didn’t hear her as by that time was already well on my way outta there.

As soon as I got outside I felt like crying. I felt completely alone, I could see that I was going to spiral into another epic fit of depression if I wasn’t careful so I decided I would take the long way and walk through the park – instead of just going straight to my apartment.

It worked; in the five minutes it took for me to arrive at the actual park I was no longer thinking about my loneliness; but it was only because it was exhausted. My ridiculous skivvy was sticking to my chest; it was at that moment I decided that I despised the sun.

It was cooler inside the park but I still thought it was necessary to stop and sit down on a bench for a rest.

I noticed two things while sitting on the bench. The first was an apparently happy group of friends; two couples; pretty people, they were holding hands and laughing, completely at ease with one another and even, occasionally, sort of dancing, jogging, just messing around with each other. The site of them filled me with a really strong feeling… not jealousy, something else, something kind of… disconnected.

The second thing I noticed was in the garden, a vast sprawling clump of Jimson Weed, Datura Inoxia.

A crazy idea came into my head and I knew I had to do it. I had to eat a giant clump of that dangerous, noxious weed and run back into town and find Jasmine. I’d taken a Datura a couple of times before but only at low doses mixed in a tea, I’d smoked pot with it these times. Now would be different. I ran immediately into the garden and took a bunch of leaves off the stem, I was cautious enough to leave the flowers alone at least. The happy people had passed through now and I was free to stuff the weed into my mouth with, as they say, reckless abandon – god it tasted awful – they were just raw leaves after all.

I wasn’t sure how potent they were going to be merely eaten raw – but in hindsight I can safely say that I over compensated, I only just managed to avoid chucking them all back up directly but I felt a little better after some long gulps of water from the park fountain.

As soon as I left the park-boundary I began to feel paranoid as hell, suddenly remembering a million warnings, ‘Datura can induce extreme deliria’, ‘ you may not know what exactly you are doing, where exactly you are’, ‘you should NOT take Datura if you are outdoors on a hot day’.

By the time I was actually back in the busier streets of town I began to feel it coming on, pretty quickly. I was really hoping that Jasmine was still around somewhere near, it wasn’t a big town, I thought I’d find her easy enough, that arse was hard to miss, god, I’m not beyond getting turned on by it….

Things got pretty confused from here on. Time seemed to slow right down, sounds, voices started coming at me from everywhere… things began to look kind of… different. I was still thinking relatively clearly, I mean I would walk from one spot to another and think ‘Christ! I’m over here now, was I just walking really, really slow then or just normal? I was sure everyone was watching me.

After a few of these sudden spastic awareness’s of my geographical presence I found myself outside the CD store. Shit!

My level of intoxication was not so much that I was beyond despair – Jasmine was nowhere to be seen. So, scared, deliriant, worried and disappointed I found myself all alone on a street bench – bathing in a sun that I still hated. It was then I became really, really thirsty, all of a sudden my mouth was unbearably dry.

For about five minutes I’d say, I sat there, cradling my head in my hands – before I finally decided to go to McDonalds. I knew from past experience that they gave away water for free there, and that it had ice in it, I could really do with some ice at that point. I’d just have to be careful not to spill it everywhere.

I always seem to end up at Maccas when I’m fucked up, those golden arches act like an overwhelmingly powerful magnet to my bent mind; I was a familiar face to the staff. This time I promised myself that I wouldn’t try and crack onto any of the chicks there, especially the manager, who was twice my age.

One of those bizarre cosmic transfers happened again and I was alarmed to find myself casually waiting to be served in the midst of a que. The close proximity I was in to other humans made me try and concentrate, I told myself over and over again that I wasn’t that fucked up. I wasn’t that fucked up. I started to believe it. When it finally became my turn to order I mustered up my best polite yet impersonal tone and asked for a cup of water with ice if possible and sorry for the inconvenience. The girl said ‘sure thing’ and got one for me.

I turned around, saw Jasmine standing there in the line right behind me and immediately dropped the cup of water with ice.

‘Oops!’ she said, ‘Hey Rainer is that all you can afford these days!? Lemmie get you something ok?’

Now at this stage I got to thinking, ‘this is too unlikely, I mean, what if this isn’t really Jasmine? Hell, maybe I’m not even in McDonalds!’ I had read some crazy shit about people on Datura and I felt that I might be the victim of some kind of ultra-realistic hallucination. Maybe that cup of water was just a dirty wet stick that I picked up in the park.

Anyway I thought that if I really was in McDonalds I’d better not be seen talking to an invisible person so I went right up close to her and quickly muttered, ‘ yeah righto that’d be great thanks’, and then kept walking to an empty table. When I got to the table and actually sat down I didn’t think there was any way I could be hallucinating, I mean, it was to real, the people, the smell…. No drug hallucination can be that real; I don’t care what you’ve taken.

I was convinced Jasmine was real to, when she sat down straight across from me, ‘I didn’t know what to get you,’ she said, ‘ so you’ll have to be satisfied with a quarter pounder meal. I was more than satisfied I was elated…overjoyed. However I felt that it was important to maintain a calm and controlled demure at this point so I merely said, ‘ yeah for sure, thanks, I’m sorry about this, you really didn’t have to.’ This little bit of speech reminded me of just how incredibly dry my mouth was, so I took a long gulp from my coke.

‘What’s wrong with your eyes?’ asked Jasmine in a genuinely concerned and kind of shocked voice. I became paranoid, ‘umm, err, nothing, I have an infection’

She became instantly suspicious after that little blunder and I knew I had blown it, but it had, at last, come to the point where I really didn’t care, I even began to laugh… somewhat hysterically.

‘You’re stoned’, she said

‘NO!’ I screamed, ‘Do I smell like pot to you!’

I glanced around the store, my eyes were really hurting all of a sudden, I could barley see but I sensed that people were looking at me.

I strained forward to look at Jasmine, was she blushing? She certainly seemed at little taken aback by the ferocity of my comment… it seemed she looked kind of sad now. If I think back now, to that sad look on her face, I feel sick to the stomach.

But anyway after that I began to move my head back and forward in a kind of worried way checking to see who was after me.

‘Christ Raoul’ she said, ‘why do you do this to yourself? What the hell are you on anyway? You know, you’d be a really cool guy if you weren’t so bloody stupid with the drugs; man you’re crazy’ Her tone of voice held that sort of pitying, condescending quality that I’m not sure if I love or hate. I’d heard it all before of course, and it was depressing, really, it was. She had no idea though; I mean, it wasn’t drugs that were screwing me up; it was something more than that. Hell! I’m not so sure I’ am that screwed up, actually I’m probably the only sane guy that’s ever set foot in that cursed dirty corporate chain restaurant!

Anyway by this point my determination to remain calm and in control was rapidly waning. ‘ Why the fuck should I give a shit what these morons think!’

I guess when I’m on drugs I forget that deep inside I really DO want people to like me, because really, I like them. I mean, I’m pretty much incapable of hating someone once I get to know them a little bit. I can hate ideas, or groups but not people, not individuals. Or maybe when I’m on drugs I realise that this ISN”T true, I’m not sure.

Anyway I started asking Jasmine some pretty obscene questions, I don’t think it was really the drug that was making me say these things. I just liked to annoy her, liked her to think I really was crazy - anything to get her off just feeling sorry for me… pitying me.

I could tell she was about to leave in disgust so I started telling her I was really sorry and just really lonely and confused and that I could really do with her company. It worked, she said she’d drive me back to her flat and we could talk and she would look after me. For some reason I lost a bit of respect for her then, but I went with her anyway.

I was really tripping hard by the time I was in her car, it was god-awful scary. As she drove off I glanced outside the window, the shrubbery was pulsating menacingly. Holy crap! I was feeling really very strange, light and sound was distorted to all hell and my eyes and mouth felt like they had just had every last dollop of moistness vacuumed out of them. I looked over to Jasmine and was horrified at what I saw, she was smiling…. evilly! That bitch was evil! Shit! She is taking me back to her house to rape me! I was sure I’d seen a strap-on lying somewhere in the car when I first got in. Fuck, I had to get out of there.

For a minute or two I remained silent in my horror. Then I think I started screaming, although I can’t be sure – but I did something to get her really annoyed anyway, she was talking and looking angry, the bitch was some kind of dominatrix. I undid my window furiously – ‘just need some air’ I said calmly enough. Up ahead was a traffic light and that was where I planned to escape – somehow I knew that Jasmine would have the door on some kind of dominatrix automatic locking system to stop me opening it, which was why I had undone the window.

The first traffic light was green. Shit! I felt sure that Jasmine belonged to some kind of underground dominatrix network that had taken control of the towns traffic light system – but it turned out the next one was red, this is where I made my move. Ripping myself violently out of my seat belt I squirmed my way desperately out of the window. I still have the bruise on my back where I landed; I didn’t really feel it then though.

The sound of screeching brakes and screaming voices registered dimly in the annals of my crazed my mind as I stumbled across the road – but I didn’t pay these much heed, my main objective was to get into the trees, out of reach of the network.

I somehow made it to the row of shrubbery alongside the highway leading out of town, the trees had a calming effect, and I realized I had gone a little crazy. There was a muddy puddle from where it had been raining before the heat had set in, and I filled my hands with it and massaged it onto my face – seeking to cool myself, it was heaven – although I had to spit out the mud when it actually entered my mouth. I stayed in those trees for what seemed, literally, like eternity. All my clothes were drenched in sweat and without the terrible heat of the sun they cooled right down, my skivvy turned into a kind of fridge for a human.

I started to worry when it seemed that I was never going to come down. The idea of staying in that crazy world forever was pretty frightening. Eventually I resolved to leave the comfort of the trees and try and make it back to my apartment. It was about an hours walk from where I was.

As I scrambled my way up an embankment and tentatively creeped out of the safety of the trees and on to the footpath and the streets above the highway I suddenly remembered the dominatrix network was after me. The brief sane-ness of the trees was shattered. I began to kind of covert along the footpath, the way you see commandoes do it in war movies. It was difficult though because I still could only just see.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of a parked cars window, it was horrifying, my eyes were bright red and bulging and my face was coated in mud that was begin to set like a clay mask. I had to get home, and fast! But hang on, where exactly was I? The footpath looked kind of familiar but I wasn’t to sure.

A car drove by, there was a woman in it and she was staring at me. Holy shit! It was stopping - she was after me! I ran desperately along the footpath to escape but it didn’t take long for me to trip over my own feet. Filled with dread I looked up to face the woman but she was nowhere to be seen, the car was gone as well. Where was she hiding! ? I was getting really, really freaked.

I was sure that the woman’s eyes were watching me from somewhere, I had to get out of the open - I was an easy target for tranquilliser sniper fire! I had got back to my feet after falling but now I dropped deliberately down and rolled to my side. I kept rolling until I was in someone’s garden; there I scrambled under a big old English hedge. I got a pretty nasty cut across my face trying to squeeze under the hedge but once I succeeded I felt a little more secure.

I knew I couldn’t go out it the open again and I started to really regret ever leaving the safety of the trees in the first place.

Thoughts of the dominatrix army faded from my mind under the hedge, although I still wasn’t about to go in the open again, I began to feel that I had had a massive overdose and was going to die. I was shit scared. So, convinced of my imminent death, I painfully squeezed shut my eyes took a surprisingly refreshing suck of my own sweat from the skivvy and began to pray. Although I dramatically renounced my Christian faith a while ago – there’s nothing like sheer terror and fear of death to bring you running back to it.

I said the one pray over and over, it was one that had given me comfort when I was an estranged little kid…it gave me comfort then under the hedge to.

Angel of God

My guardian dear

To whom God’s love commits me here

Ever this night be at my side

To light and guard

To rule and guide

Amen

I’m not sure how many times I repeated it; a lot I would wager. But anyway I must have eventually chanted myself to sleep. A strange dream-filled sleep for sure, but not a scary one.

It was pretty late when I woke up, the sky was black and moonless, the night cold. At first I began to freak out, I didn’t know where I was or what was going on, but then I remembered the days proceedings and I became relieved to discover I was no longer so intoxicated; although some of the effects, such as the sore eyes and dry mouth still lingered.

I talked a bit to myself to make sure I still could. When I squirmed out of the hedge and stood up I felt a little hazy but nothing worrying. When I got on the footpath I realised straight away where I was and set to walking back to my apartment – I was about half an hour away.

Looking back on it I still can’t understand why I wasn’t depressed after this massive incident. Certainly I had been before in the past when things of a similar nature had occurred, I’d been terribly depressed for weeks over stuff much less drastic than this. But I dunno, I felt a curious kind of contentment that night, I wouldn’t say I was happy, more of a begrudging acceptance of my own mad self. – I was longing to get back to my apartment, to a shower a drink and the cold comfort of my keyboard. But I wasn’t sad, I felt, kind of, satisfied, I can’t explain it, I just felt glad that I was me, glad that I was alive, glad I was Raoul Caulfield, for better or worse.

[Guest Nozzle Boy]

I usually hate reading - it's hard to think of an example, but it's really just the most informative or entertaining writes that grab my attention. That said, I felt no pain whatsoever in continuing reading this post to the end - it's well written, exciting, to do with drugs ( always a good read ) , and just generally entertaining.

[Happas]

thanks - unfortunatly as of today my holidays have ended so i'll have less time for writing and learning now - i can't wait to finish my education completly and become a vagabond

[gomaos]

I'd like to proclaim you a Bukowski/Thompson/...something else-Hybrid

(I'm actually reading fear and loathing right now). Your stuff would definitely be worthwile to go into print somewhere, if anti-drug-conservativism of publishers can be overcome...

You could be a vagabound for the rest of your life and get paid for it...

Also: The message datura passed to you in this case probably was that it was better to run and get hurt in the process than to get captured and perhaps being turned into a boring everyday person by this girl you were attracted to. Obviously she was anti-drugs and pro-society. Your love for her could have changed you.

Only my 2 cents