» Winging It

A happy coincidence
When I was younger, I was lucky enough to get into a very prestigious university. I was never particularly interested in politics or debating, mainly because I'm not very good at either, however a friend convinced me to join this dining club thing that was going on. It was kind of like a society, and I thought it'd be a nice way of getting to know people. At first it was awkward- I assumed we'd be talking about normal things like what jobs we'd had (I learned a lot in my job as a towel-folder, actually), but it turned out that none of them really had any experience. Soon the conversation turned to drugs, and it occurred to me that I hadn't actually taken any. Desperate as ever to fit in, I made up a story about how I'd once snorted a whole bag of ecstasy, which I thought would be impressive. Unfortunately for me, it turned out you can't actually snort it unless you cut it up on top of a Bible with a platinum card, and I had neither, having only gotten into the university on a sort of scholarship thing.

That's when these guys started passing around this white powder, all arranged in neat little lines on top of a copy of The Fountainhead. I didn't really know what to do when they finally passed it to me, but I must have done something right because ten minutes later we were throwing chairs around the restaurant and smashing open bottles of wine- really crazy stuff. I remember at one point the restaurant manager came over to kick us out, and my mate turns round to him and goes mental, saying shit like "watch your fucking back chappy, else I'll fuck you up good one of these days, I'll fucking bankrupt you, you little shit". I felt so bad for him. Then this other guy we were with pulls out the paper straw from before, and I'm thinking 'shitshitshit, not again', but instead of getting Ayn Rand'd again, he hands it to the guy and says "sorry mate, see you later".

Of course, I've got no idea what the hell is going on at this point, until I look back at the guy as I'm being dragged out of there, and I see him holding a blank cheque. Seriously, my mates and I took a shitload of drugs, fucked up a restaurant, and paid for it. Like just paid for it, and nobody even seemed to care.

Twenty years later, and we're best mates; we even work in the same office. Our wild days are behind us, though we do still occasionally fuck something up, just for a laugh and a bit of nostalgia.
(Tue 2nd Apr 2013, 17:09, More)