Chapter 4 – The next morning
I was the first person to wake up from the sleep that lasted about 5 hours. That’s right, even after a night so crazy I still slept a hearty 5 hours (note the sarcasm). As I awoke I had what is called a “hang-over”, because everyone including me, took shots of good old Jack Daniels whisky before bed. Hangovers in general are INCREDIBLY horrible experiences that can cripple even the most physically powerful man. Yeah, that’s right, and I thank god my “hangovers” only last about 10 minutes. After my 10-minute recovery time, I took about five more minutes to “scan” my surroundings. I didn’t really look around; I basically stared at the ceiling, while I felt everything within the vicinity of my arms. I felt an empty glass, a strange rubbery ball, and a plastic 2-litre bottle of something or other. So I gathered all of the strength I had, and lifted myself up to drink from it. I almost cried I was so happy, because it was 7up, or whatever was left of the 7up from our drinks the night before. I took a large gulp from the bottle and not only was the 7up warm; it was flat. I groaned at the sugar water I had just swallowed. This obviously created a ruckus of some sort, because I heard a ruckus of some sort, because I heard one person flop over onto his stomach and lift himself up. Then I heard him clear his throat and scream “WAKE AND BAKE!” Wake and bake is yet ANOTHER term made up by the hormone-driven, puberty infested, pot smoking, pill-popping, joint-rolling, teens of today. It’s generally used when someone wakes up at a party, or with a group of friends. It’s usually screamed at the top of one’s lungs to inform everyone in the direct vicinity that they should “wake up and get baked.” Getting baked, getting stoned, getting smoked, toked, fried, and sometimes even frosted.
These terms all applied that morning to about 13 people; I counted them as they walked outside. They didn’t really care what time it was, they just wanted to get baked. Again.
Of the people who hadn’t quite woken up yet, despite the loud yell, I woke up my friend Jenny, whose name was changed for purposes of privacy. We talked for a little while, and then decided we would play some great prank on the heavy sleepers. Jenny got out a permanent marker from her bag. We opened the black “sharpie”, and started to draw all over everyone’s faces. If I remember correctly, the funniest thing we drew was on this guy, who must have been the heaviest sleeper there. We kind of joined his eyebrows together with the permanent ink, and gave him one of those curly French moustaches. The thing that topped it all off though, was the little, and occasionally big, black freckles. We drew over it all 4 times, and all I really remember is after he woke up, everyone was holding back the urge to break out into laughter. Luckily, no one did break the silence, even though most of them were so stoned they laughed at anything and everything anyways. Anyways, about an hour after he had woken up, mister heavy sleeper decided he had the urge to “empty the faucet.” We all looked at him and snickered silently, knowing there was a mirror in front of the bathroom bowl. I can still remember it all in incredible detail. In fact, it went something like “WHAT THE FUCK!!!” At that exact moment, we all exploded into laughter. So much so, that people rolling on the floor bumped into each other. He tried to take it off with soap and water, but he ended up using steel wool. I can remember watching him walking out of the bathroom, his face ALL red.
By now as I looked around the room, I saw teenagers sleeping, and teenagers awake. I also saw people kissing, people groping each other, which led me to ask myself what the hell went on while I was out like a light. There were people sitting on the couch, and others lying on the floor, so I decided to join the people on the couch, because my ass hurt. When I got there, I realized that they were picking up the beer bottles from the night before. So I helped them out with the bottle picking, and once I finished, I got three smiles, a thank you, and a high-five.
Ah, the high-five, the symbol of acknowledgment of a job well done. It is also a symbol of happiness, or of agreement. This symbol has so little real meaning, that sometimes if I meet a random person in the street, I will sometimes get the urge to lift my open hand in the air and say something stupid like “gimme five!” People use this slapping together of palms in different ways. Different gangs use different hand-slap-shakes to identify each other. Some people say hi, with a “hand-slap-props”. Props, is the knocking of fists against one another, which is also known as a “fist-bump.” In fact I’m not even sure what “props” stands for.
These terms all applied that morning to about 13 people; I counted them as they walked outside. They didn’t really care what time it was, they just wanted to get baked. Again.
Of the people who hadn’t quite woken up yet, despite the loud yell, I woke up my friend Jenny, whose name was changed for purposes of privacy. We talked for a little while, and then decided we would play some great prank on the heavy sleepers. Jenny got out a permanent marker from her bag. We opened the black “sharpie”, and started to draw all over everyone’s faces. If I remember correctly, the funniest thing we drew was on this guy, who must have been the heaviest sleeper there. We kind of joined his eyebrows together with the permanent ink, and gave him one of those curly French moustaches. The thing that topped it all off though, was the little, and occasionally big, black freckles. We drew over it all 4 times, and all I really remember is after he woke up, everyone was holding back the urge to break out into laughter. Luckily, no one did break the silence, even though most of them were so stoned they laughed at anything and everything anyways. Anyways, about an hour after he had woken up, mister heavy sleeper decided he had the urge to “empty the faucet.” We all looked at him and snickered silently, knowing there was a mirror in front of the bathroom bowl. I can still remember it all in incredible detail. In fact, it went something like “WHAT THE FUCK!!!” At that exact moment, we all exploded into laughter. So much so, that people rolling on the floor bumped into each other. He tried to take it off with soap and water, but he ended up using steel wool. I can remember watching him walking out of the bathroom, his face ALL red.
By now as I looked around the room, I saw teenagers sleeping, and teenagers awake. I also saw people kissing, people groping each other, which led me to ask myself what the hell went on while I was out like a light. There were people sitting on the couch, and others lying on the floor, so I decided to join the people on the couch, because my ass hurt. When I got there, I realized that they were picking up the beer bottles from the night before. So I helped them out with the bottle picking, and once I finished, I got three smiles, a thank you, and a high-five.
Ah, the high-five, the symbol of acknowledgment of a job well done. It is also a symbol of happiness, or of agreement. This symbol has so little real meaning, that sometimes if I meet a random person in the street, I will sometimes get the urge to lift my open hand in the air and say something stupid like “gimme five!” People use this slapping together of palms in different ways. Different gangs use different hand-slap-shakes to identify each other. Some people say hi, with a “hand-slap-props”. Props, is the knocking of fists against one another, which is also known as a “fist-bump.” In fact I’m not even sure what “props” stands for.
posted by XxX~Mike~XxX at 7:31 PM
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