What My Mother Never Knew #17: Mind-melting

On some level, I had healthy fear of drugs, particularly those I considered to be chemically-based. This was particularly true after I became psychotic with a bottle of Pam cooking spray back East. But somehow, I gradually became desensitized to the fear.

Our class was heading out of town on a field trip to the Vancouver Science Centre for a day. I was part of an enriched program for kids with higher grades and this trip was one of the bonuses. There were four of us in that class who chummed around and we concocted a scheme to make things a bit more interesting. During the lunch hour, we were allowed to eat wherever we wanted. We decided to try to see if we couldn't buy some pot - why not? We walked and walked and since it was mid-day, there were few sellers to be found. Finally, we got some good advice on where to look and found someone who wanted to do business. He had a strange fuzzy afro, grown long and seemed in a hurry. Unfortunately, he didn't have any of what we wanted and we began to walk away. But he suggested he had something much much better.

I'd never done anything beyond pot and some of the earlier inhallant so was very wary of his product. Purple Microdot, the best acid we would find anywhere, nearly as small as a tiny peppercorn. What on earth would we do with it? My friend Terri had done it before and convinced us this was the only option. So we gave the man our $20 and divided the hits into four equal sections. We all consumed it back at the science centre, in the washroom stall. By this time the tour of the centre was nearing an end and I found myself becoming increasingly impatient and goofy. But when we got on the tour bus, that's when things began to get really nuts. We had this little pac man that wound up and vibrated, hopping along. He seemed to be chattering at us with the same quivery giddiness we all were experiencing. We laughed so hard that there were tears streaming down our faces. The teachers must have been horrified if they actually looked into our eyes for any length of time.

Stopping at a truck stop we all ran to the bathroom and stood transfixed, staring into our highly dilated pupils in the grimy mirror. Nothing seemed real. The science trip seemed to be happening in another time and place, another dimension. And here we were on planet Zoom, ready to climb a mountain. The rest of that trip and much of the night stretched on forever, like a tightly strung elastic that quivered incessantly. The lasting nerve-twisting mind-melting feeling as I was coming down was horrible and I swore that I'd never do acid again.

But of course I did, and I always regretted it and repeated the oath as if I meant it.