Ecstasy, an Indian Buffet and legionnaire’s disease

For my 18^th Birthday there was a surprise party with all my family and friends and a buffet cooked by Dad#2.  I didn’t eat much as I had earlier swallowed several ecstasy tablets.

This was not the first time I had taken ecstasy....that story is on the substories site here (yes I'm greedy and have 2 sites!)

After feigned surprise, family hugs and friendly high fives we commenced the drinking....only problem is it’s really hard to get drunk when you’ve taken ecstasy.  I cannot begin to contemplate how many beers and shots slid through my sweaty palms and into my quivering face hole that day.

The party was great, Dad#2 created a delicious Indian themed buffet (he was an A' la carte chef before moving into catering management), a friend had supplied the decks and between three of my mates they controlled the tunes all night (actual mixing of course not just party DJ) and to top it all off I was utterly ruined, as any 18^th Birthday host should be.

I don’t remember at which point in the evening family members sloped off but eventually it became myself and a large selection of my party loving, chemically enhanced or just plain drunk friends left to tear up the cordoned off back room of this small town pub....which we did until at least quarter past midnight...oh yeah! I said Midnight! Hahahaha (small town, no late licences in them there days!)

We all dwindled away from the pub and I left with a particularly smashed friend to find a new location for fun and frolics (not everyone had the extra party fuel that Ecstasy provided).  En route I needed a wee and for completely unexplainable reasons thought it prudent to jump a 5 foot stone wall onto the embankment of the deep trickling river that dissected our small town. 

I tip toed through the undergrowth conscious of my new “Birthday outfit” (Disclaimer: “Birthday outfit” is in no way affiliated with “Birthday Suit”), which consisted of expensive jeans, a crisp new T shirt, a handsome watch and some box fresh trainers.

"Birthday Suit" from the film Bruno by Sacha Baron Cohen

Edging close to the rivers edge so that my stream of steamy urine would enter the river with a hearty splash, I have no idea why this was so important to me but it was, I release a tester squirt.... I am not close enough... I clamp my winkie in my hand stemming the flow and shuffle closer...

It was difficult to see the edge and as I teetered around groping for support, cock squeezed in one hand, blindly fumbling forwards with the other, I found a particularly sturdy branch slightly to my right.  I clenched it tightly with my cockless hand and fairy stepped towards the murky water.

I released the pressure and my hot urine arced into the river...glorious!!   I closed my eyes and savoured the moment contemplating my movement into man-dom...18 years old...this ecstasy is fucking brilliant...hang on...

I had started to lean but with closed eyes I hadn’t noticed....the particularly sturdy branch was clutched in my hand, no worries, I’m fine.....hang on (again).....the particularly sturdy branch is 15 foot long and attached way back up the embankment off to my right....as my weight shifts I stumble towards the water, the long branch creating a grounded Tarzan style swing...my flailing body tumbling quickly towards the green, sludge topped river.

I came to rest, floating face up, cock out, with a new scarf of green mould.

As I clambered out and made my way back up the embankment, over the stone wall, to the vigorous thigh slapping and tear inducing laughter of my close friend I felt like Sasquatch.

Harry and the Hendersons

Slightly stone faced with the shock but still fizzing inside from the chemicals I couldn’t help but laugh too.  My previously box fresh trainers squeaked (in a not dissimilar sound to the word “Sasquatch”...almost but not quite onomatopoeia) and my not so crisp T shirt dripped with mucus coloured river water....at least my new watch was waterproof.

We continued our walk, now with a squeaky soundtrack, laughing and joking towards a friends house who couldn’t make it to the party but should have been home by now.  We arrived on his driveway to find a worrying lack of lit up windows....my friend picked a small stone and attempted to throw it gently at the upstairs bedroom window.

On the third attempt he smashed the window and the remnants of the glass pane fell from the second storey onto the tarmac driveway....shit that was loud.....we looked at each other like two gormless meer cats before wordlessly deciding to sprint.

So to celebrate my shift into becoming a bona fide grown up I had wasted a perfectly glamorous Indian buffet, wandered around like a wide eyed, over talkative idiot amongst my close family, swallowed liver curdling amounts of alcohol, danced and laughed like a crazed giraffe, taken a dip in the local river with my cock out and been an accomplice to the beginnings of an attempted break in....all in all a pretty good Birthday.