Arrest Numero Dos

I'm trying to pull a Star Wars trick on you and post these out of order. Here is the first one.

Have you ever been to a rave?

The first thing you hear feel is the THUMP THUMP THUMP of the bass. It goes right through you. Then you see the colors all the beautiful colors dancing on the floor and the walls. Lasers making pictures. Then you see the people. All the happy people. Candy kids is what we were called. Kids dancing - but not grinding. Dancing with people but dancing alone. Dancing like the music had possessed them. The candy comes from the bracelets we all made, wore, and swapped. Just some pony beads on elastic, but we treasured them. I actually still have mine.

Then comes the drugs. If you were lucky smart, you bought them before you came in because in the rave they are fucking expensive. We'd easily drop $100 on four pills in the rave. We rarely thought ahead.

On this particular night, we obtained our ecstasy at the rave. I was rolling face. (I was a lucky one - one pill and I was good for about 24 hours.) I was standing around with a bunch of people and a friend of a friend got some special k (ketamine) and needed some moral support. She asked if I would go into the bathroom with her. Of course in my altered state I agreed.

We went into the packed bathroom and I stopped in front of the mirror to check out my hair and eyes. She insisted that I come into the handicap stall with her.

Okay!

Dumbass. She was just about to snort it when who but a DEA agent stood on the toilet in the stall next to us and said "Give that to me!"

Fuck.

We were escorted outside where there were some lovely police officers handing out court summons'. Apparently in the same 15 minutes that we were arrested, so were 14 others. It was a raid.

Anyways, I was so fucked up that I wasn't upset about anything except not being able to go back into the rave. We begged and pleaded, but alas, we spent the rest of the night in the car while our friends inside wondered where we had gone.

Part three is over here.