I’m not really one to experiment with drugs to be honest, no cheeky dabbles round here, especially after I was spiked once, well not spiked, unknowingly drank a friends drinks (I’ll save that for another post) but when in Rome.. or Amsterdam in this case, I thought why the f*ck not. I can handle a space cake after all right?
Nope. No I can’t!
Chilling in the Cafe, enjoying the atmosphere, giggles and smoke swirling around. Everyone’s vibing, loving life. Chomped down half a space cake, and my friends wanna go for a wander. Let’s go………..
Walking down the canal, arm and arm with my friend, she’s talking to me and I can’t talk. Literally my brain has stopped sending messages to my mouth lol, so I’m smiling away hoping that’s a good enough response and I learn to talk again.
*start sending help*
Then, the group separates – no, nothing dramatic they just went in to a clothing store but I didn’t know this, so after staring in to a window display full of alcohol (not that I was in a fit state to drink at this point lol) the paranoia creeped up on me…. . Oh Hi! So just like that, I’m now going to be kidnapped, sold as a sex-slave, selling myself on the red light district! I don’t wanna die.
(And imagine, I’m not even the dramatic one of our friendship group! Lol)
The munchies kick in for everyone and although I’m still mute at this point the thought of waffles sounded amazing. Waffles with strawberries and cream, yes please… mmmmm!!
By this point i was having an outer body experience, I had my sober self floating above me, laughing and telling me to get a grip of myself. Encouraging me to speak. My other self, the one who ate the flipping space cake wasn’t listening, fuck my life.
Well ‘ello Waffle House. “I’ll have……” wait, can’t flipping talk can I. Pointing and nodding to the man behind the counter hoping he can communicate telepathically, I agree to a waffle with custard. CUSTARD. I hate custard.
It was here my friends knew I was a goner, laughing historically at my choice of waffle!
Knife and fork in hand, I’m about to tuck in to my custard waffle, I black out and remember being fireman lifted over someone’s shoulder, bums in the air, in and out of consciousness, someone’s flicking water on my face whilst I sit on a toilet and I’m trying to flick it away but they ain’t stopping. Even in my state I was getting so annoyed with water being flicked in my face. Like if you carry on, I’m going to… but seriously guys what am I going to do LMAO
In an ambulance and the paramedic is calling me the wrong name. Oh how I bad I wanted to correct him…. advised to sleep in off, a taxi journey later we’re back at the hotel. Oh shit, I’m getting that watery feeling in my mouth. I’m going to vomit. Friends are rushing me through reception. Team spirit is going strong here (thanks girls) successfully get to the corridor of our room holding in the vomit… and yeah, you guessed it. Couldn’t even pick my feet up… so now I’m a mute that can’t even get her brain to move her feet out the way of projectile vomiting. I’m sexy, I assure you.
(Photo credit: Jawbreaker 1999)
Friends getting me naked so I can use the loo and shower, no time to feel embarrassed about my body now. Thanks again girls.
Led on the bed in a blissful state of relaxation, I dose in and out of sleep. Now what I can tell you is my friend next to me was having the time of her life. Laughing away and ordering room service, she ordered the same thing like five times so I woke up to a cabinet full of empty plates and a friend truly content with life.
What a day. I still hate custard.
theclumsywanderer 