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mmm... there was the weekend where, while working for the architects responsible for the odd cardboard box that is Federation Square (on the final three days of a competition entry for a gallery extension), my life started to resemble fear and loathing in Las Vegas.
It began slowly, Friday night. I met up with a friend out front of the then empire nightclub. I had been working 12 hr minimum days, this friday I didn't leave the office until 2am. I really wanted a smoke so I could relax and get to sleep. I made a serious lapse in judgement that would substantially alter the weekend from that point on. Somehow I got convince to have some acid.
It was a crappy trip, it didn't do much, but I was not going to sleep.
There was a girl hanging out with my friend. A fucked up raver chick who owed about $2000 to her speed dealer. She was hanging around with my friend to try and get speed off him to sell to her friends at a profit so she could pay back her dealer.
It was also the grand prix long weekend, there were lots of huge parties happening. I figured because of my job and this competition I would not be going to any. I was wrong.
But before that I needed a shower so I could go to work and feel slightly normal. We collectively decided that we needed a hotel room. On a grand prix weekend this was not going to be easy.
We ended up in a penthouse appartment with views of the city, after much fucking around. I had a shower and went to work.
I was at work till 5am that night. Stagger back to hotel room. I can hear people in the room, or at least I can hear the TV. I knock. No answer. Eventually I get someone to let me in.
I find my friend blacked out on the couch and the girl going through his drug collection, helping herself to his speed. I had well and truly busted her ripping him off.
Things got a bit messy. I just want a couple of pipes and some sleep, I had to work again tomorrow.
The next morning shit went down. I told my mate what had happened and the girl locked herself in the bathroom (which meant I couldn't have a shower, delaying my getting to work). I was fed up with this hanger on and told my mate to get rid of her. I went to work.
I worked until 2am.
It was now Sunday night, party night. And I wanted to party. The girl was gone but a new player had entered the game. Adam. Adam had a car, and shared my mates love of injecting various chemicals (something I didn't share). The girl had left a string of increasingly distressed messages on my mates mobile, as she became aware she had been abandoned. The final was "fuck you". They were very funny.
Acid, MDMA, speed and cocaine was the recipe for the night. I was toasted. Off to Monkey for a couple of hours of bliss.
Then recovery, still quite blissful.
Then I had to go back to work. To prop myself up I took more coke, hoping the confidence boost would prevent my workmates seeing my deeply acidified mind. I thought it worked. Later (much later) I would discover that the entire office knew I was off my trolley, but that would be years later.
At lunch I went back to recovery, still trashed enough to boggie a bit. My mate was beginning to look a bit haggared and annoyed at everything. He seem to resent my presence, or was waiting for me to do something, I couldn't tell. I had a joint and went back to work.
Worked till 2am. Competition entry finished.
Went back to hotel room. Still wanting to party after a really fucked day at work. But it was Monday night, the clubbing choices were grim indeed.
More acid, MDMA and coke later we headed down to Tatoo nightclub.
Even though I was really trashed, it was utter shit. The worst most moronic techno I had ever heard. Shit crowd, no vibe other than desperate and cracked out. I though, anything has got to be better than this. I was wrong.
We headed down to the Megabar, the last resort for the pitiful and trashed.
It was crap. The music was worse than tatoo. The crowd more dodgy. I begged the DJ to play one good track. He had the track I suggested but said no, even though I was the only one dancing. My mate was chatting up a chick, then he vanished. With the hotel room key.
I though he would come back. He didn't. Me and adam went back to the hotel room. Kept trying to call my mate from the hotel room, no answer. We were checking out that day and needed the key to get back the deposit.
I finally got through to him at about 7 or 8 in the morning. He said he was preparing a shot for himself that should keep him awake for the rest of the day.
I didn't hear from him again for a couple of hours. In the meantime me and Adam checked out and waited downstairs.
While we were waiting, a manager or something like that came up to us and asked if either of us was a diebetic. Adam, wisely said yes he was. It turned out one of the cleaners had jabbed themselves with one of the many needles Adam and my mate had used and thrown in the bin.
Things went from bad to worse.
I finally got through to my mate. The first call was a grabbled 'help me'. When I finally got some sense of him we went to pick him up.
We found him in a gutter. He was fucked up and had been robbed. The girl he picked up was a prostitute, who had stabbed him with a needle full of heroin. He had been dealing coke all weekend while I was working, and had made over $4000. She had taken it all. As well as about 500 pills, a large amount of speed, his personal trip collection (between 50-100) his personal pill collection (about 50 of the best from the last 6 months of so) and the remainer of the unsold coke.
The rest of the day was a blur of my mate desperately trying to restore his collection, and trying to find that girl.
I did not get to work that day. The day ended with my mates dad (a wealthy oil tycoon) becoming involved. My mate could barely move, we handed him over to his dad (who almost had a punch on with adam).
I got home (to my parents house) at 5am.
The next day I went to work, and was promtly fired.
I met up with my mate who had somehow aquired a hire car despite having no licence - he lost his licence from too many speeding fines, then got busted for driving without a licence and almost went to jail, but this did not deter him.
He was driving up and down the same block I had found him in the gutter the day before. Desperately trying to find the girl that had robbed him. She of course was nowhere to be found.
I stayed with him till 5am.
Then next day I managed to get back into a previous job, I lost it in two days. I tried to call my mate, no answer. No answer for about a week.
Later I found out what had happened.
He had been pulled over for using a mobile phone while driving, without a seatbelt, without a licence, on a suspended licence. He had every chemical known to man in the car in traffikable quantities (Dope, speed, coke, pills, pure MDMA, trips and heroin) as well as hundred syringes. He was charged with possession and traffiking.
He was fucked.
except, he wasn't. He got off on a suspended sentence because his dad was a wealthy oil tycoon. |
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