Magic Mushrooms, a Potential Quadriplegic Orgy, and a Pink Floyd Tribute Band

Magic Mushrooms, a Potential Quadriplegic Orgy, and a Pink Floyd Tribute Band

It was the night before the concert.  He was at work in a factory but I was in his hot-rod garage hanging out when he sent me this message; ‘Should we eat magic mushrooms for the Pink Floyd tribute band?’  Holy…. I was not ready for that.  I wrote back; ‘Whoa.  I have not done something like that in about five years.  I am not sure if I need to do that, but I am up to whatever you want to get up to I guess.’  He made some phone calls and sent a girl to meet me.  She was an ex-girlfriend’s sister, so I was as charming as I could possibly be to her, just to be reputable.  I was all smiles as she handed me a baggie of dried mushrooms.  I asked how much I owed her.  She replied me, “Umm, $90.  Is that okay?”  Well, I am not an expert in the magic mushroom market, so I assumed it was, paid her, and hid them away.

I went to bed not long after.  He, Wizzer, was working a night-shift and got home at 7am.  I made him go to bed at 9am as we were going to be having a heavy one.  He needed rest too.

Sometime during the afternoon while Wizzer was sleeping, I went to the second had store where I bought a 1980’s hair crimper, and a pink button up shirt.  I took my new possessions back to the shop, where I took a marker and wrote the name ‘Floyd’ on the shirt.  I thought that was pretty clever.  My own pink ‘Floyd’ shirt!  I cannot believe the band never thought to market that…  Maybe it was too taboo for men to wear pink shirts in the 1960’s and 1970’s?  Surely it would have been a good woman’s shirt though…

I showered and spent about 30 minutes crimping my hair in the garage because if we were going full blast on magic mushrooms, I was going to look full blast.  I went into the house to wake Wizzer.  Once he got moving he handed me a hanger with a gorgeous powder-blue 1970’s tuxedo with a dark-blue velvet 5cm stripe up the legs and dark-blue velvet detailing on the jacket itself.  He could not fit into it anymore and told me to try it.  I put it on.  He said, “It fits you!  It is yours.  Merry Christmas.  It is your lucky day!”

I unzipped the pants and beefed up the groin area with a double-bunched sock ‘stuff’ for entertainment purposes and special effects.  I wanted a serious shaft that remained in place so I safe-t-pinned the double-sock stuff to my underwear to prevent it from changing positions or losing shape.  It is dangerous to safe-t-pin things down there, but sometimes you have to risk a bit for cause and effect.  All of the safe-t-pins opened to the outside of the underwear as a precautionary measure.  The pins are necessary; if you are going to wear a sock in your crotch, it is vital that it stays in its rightful place.

I re-zipped the pants over-top of my stuffed crotch, had my hair radically 1980’s crimped, was wearing the pink Floyd shirt, and put on the powder-blue tuxedo jacket on over top.  Wizzer and I divided the mushrooms up into two 2.5 grams piles to eat and chased them down with the two beers that I had brought back into the country from our trip to Cuba.  We were loaded up and ready.  Off to the prestigious-looking Casino Show Lounge for the concert…

Wizzer and I were both hungry upon entering the building.  I did not want to dilute my stomach too much and have a blockade of food for the magic of the mushrooms to hide behind though digestion, so I consumed a small fruit cup. The Casino is a fancy place, and everyone was looking at me in my party uniform as we were standing around, quickly gobbling down mushroom chasers.  The girl behind the counter said, “I guess you had better hurry if you are going to be onstage right away.”  I realized that she was talking to me and thought I was a part of the Pink Floyd tribute band.  I then clued in to why people had given Wizzer and I so much room as we walked through the casino.  We certainly had not gone unnoticed.  As we left the food stand for the Casino Show Lounge the crowds of people walking down the aisles towards us were parting the seas to give us space to walk between them.  In their eyes, we were surely rock stars.  No other humans would dress in such a fashion…

I was yawning as we were walking, so I knew the mushrooms were making their magic.  My legs are always the first things to be effected by the mushrooms and I can always feel a tingling coming through them to start off the ride to let me know that an adventure is on the way.  We were getting close to the entrance of the show lounge when I noticed an extremely attractive woman in a wheelchair.  She was the most beautiful lady that I have ever seen seated in a wheelchair.  I was just staring directly at her because she was so striking, having a quick think about how for some reason it is actually more sad when someone gorgeous is in such a state and the irrelevance of that thinking when I heard her yell out a name twice.  It was Wizzer’s last name!  She knew him…  Whoa!  We walked towards her where the two of them engaged in conversation.  She, Melissa, was with a friend and they were going to the concert as well.  She was cool and friendly with a big smile.  After introductions and their small catch-up, we all headed into the Casino Show Lounge in separate directions.

Wizzer and I found our seats.  We were nearly at the back of the area, up high against the back wall.  I could feel the magic mushrooms finding me.  We sat down for a moment when Wizzer said, “I am going to go talk to Melissa.  Are you going to stay here?”  I told him I was just going to relax as I could feel the mushrooms gaining momentum.

…It turned out that I knew Melissa as well.  I had not met her before, but I knew the story of her.  Seven years ago, when she had a normal life, she was drunk at a party when someone threw a Frisbee towards the swimming pool.  Melissa dived for the Frisbee into too shallow of water and broke her neck.  It left her a quadriplegic.  Tragic.  She can use her arms to hold her cell phone, but her fingers do not really work on her hands.  The reason Wizzer knows Melissa is because he is friends with a girl that the family had hired to help take care of her.  Melissa is essentially just a head today, and she really does not have a lot to do, so she does a lot of cocaine.  She has really long straws as that is the only way that she can get close enough to get to the coke.  But her parents hate that she is doing coke, and they hide the long straws on her.  Because Melissa is still so beautiful, men still really like her and she still has plenty of boyfriends.  Melissa would have her boyfriend over, and then he would leave and the helper would come back into the room and Melissa would be just sitting in her wheelchair without her shirt on and there would be cum on her tits.  The helper would have to clean her up.  This situation had happened a couple of times.  Once again the boyfriend came over.  When he left, the helper went into the room and found Melissa sitting in her wheelchair.  There was cum on her tits.  The helper said, “I am sorry.  Fuck this!  I cannot do this anymore.  I am sorry, but I quit.”  And that is how Melissa is connected to our lives…

Wizzer came back to where I was sitting in my seat and asked me if I wanted to go and sit at a table at the very front of the stage with Melissa.  That sounded way better than where we were sitting, so we made our way down the stairs and went to the table where Melissa and her friend David were located.  Wizzer and I sat in the two empty chairs around the table.  I felt doubts and asked Melissa, “Is this gonna be okay if we sit here too?”  She said with a smile, “I’m a quad!  I can do what I want!”  Well, it is tough to argue with that.  There was a number on our table for seating indication and it was thrown away so that we would not get kicked out of our seats when the other two people came looking for their spots at the table.  She was right; no one would question a table with the possibility of inconveniencing a quadriplegic sitting there.  A waitress came around and asked us what we wanted for drinks.  Wizzer was drinking ‘Double-Tequila Paralyzers,’ an irony of a cocktail that was not lost on me.  I just wanted to drink water.  When I got called a pussy I said, “Na, I have been drunk a thousand times.  I just want to ride out the mushrooms and let them do their work.”

I was sort of in and out of worlds from the mushrooms that were marching on.  Melissa told me that she liked my pink Floyd shirt.  She asked me if she could have it.  “Yea…umm…sure…,” so I took off my tuxedo jacket and shirt and was topless for a moment in front of the stage in the fancy show lounge.  Some guy seated next to me joked out loud, “What is going on here?”  I put my tuxedo jacket back on my hairy torso top, and put the pink Floyd shirt on Melissa.  I noticed that she had a pink cast on her leg.  That seemed odd to me, but I know nothing about quadriplegics, so I thought that maybe somehow this could be normal and I did not really give it a second thought after I noticed it.  Then just as the show was about to begin, Melissa asked, “Hey, do you guys want to know how I broke my leg?”  Yeah!  “Well, I was in Phoenix last week, and we were having this huge orgy in the shower, and I fell in the middle of it, and my bones are so brittle from being in a wheelchair for so long that my leg just snapped.”  Whoa!  What?  Wait a minute…  What?  That was a crazy lot of information to process…  I was getting high on mushrooms.  Fuck!  That was one of the craziest things I had heard and I was just busy trying to wrap my mind around it when the lights in the venue dimmed.

The the Pink Floyd tribute band, The Pink Floyd Experience, came out.  The show was themed ‘The Four Sides of Floyd’ where they were to play one side of each of the albums: Animals, Meddle, The Wall and Dark Side of the Moon.  The band was incredible.  The bass player looked like a 2.5 meter tall wizard who produced an incredibly positive energy around him at all times and exhumed a beautiful aura while music just spilled from his soul.  He was a man who loved doing what he was doing for a living and we were in awe of him at the table.  The voices of the Pink Floyd tribute band were spot on and the music was seamless in comparison with the original Pink Floyd records.  I was starting to get pretty high.  The light show was fantastic and I thought that was going to be the biggest part of my adventure, but it was the music that was getting to me.  The sound the band was creating was coming through my body with force.

It took me a while to comfortably settle into the magic mushrooms.  In the years since my last experience with them, I had forgotten about the yawns that never go away because your brain is tired from a slight lack of oxygen.  I do love the mentality of the mushrooms and how they make your mind run at an entirely different level than normal.  They change entire perceptions.  I like to tell people, “The smartest person I have ever met in my life… is me on magic mushrooms!”  Mushrooms are fascinating.  The music would completely suck me into it, and I would leave my surroundings and my table.  Then I could pull myself out of it and have a normal conversation with anyone in our crew when they wanted my attention, and then disappear into the music again.

It was an amazing first half of the show through a side of Animals and Meddle when the lights came on and an intermission took place.  Wizzer was hard on the Double-Tequila Paralyzers through the first half of the concert and I was hard on the water.  I’d had to pee since we had walked into the Show Lounge, but I had forgotten to go to the restroom as I was so mesmerized by the show.  Suddenly it was intermission, and that last thing I wanted to do was go to the bathroom and run into someone I knew on the way while I was wearing a powder-blue tuxedo with a dark-blue crushed velvet 5 cm stripe up the legs topped off with 1980’s crimped hair while 1/3 of the way to the peak of a magic mushroom trip so close to home.  “…Yea, you know I saw your son at the Pink Floyd Experience concert.  He was completely out of his mind…”  That is nearly the last thing my parents needed to hear.  So, I just sat tight through the intermission, holding out until the concert would start again and I could get to the toilet with less chance of familiar confrontation…  Beside me at the table, Wizzer was wearing an eye-patch that he had brought along, David the normal guy was beside him, and the hottest quadriplegic in a wheelchair, ever, was next to him.  What a conglomeration of a four-person table we had…  I like to imagine my own reaction to stumbling upon that scene of four people at one place sitting…

In the meantime, as the lights were on, people were coming up to me sitting in my chair and telling me how great I looked in the powder-blue tuxedo.  People were shaking my hand and congratulating me.  A woman in her 50’s came up to me and told me, “You look amazing.  I think that maybe we should have a dance later.”  I did not know what to say, but I did not think that a the Pink Floyd tribute band concert was really for dancing, but I told her we would see later on…

My little group and I started talking.  Wizzer and I were being ridiculous, saying silly things.  Melissa looked at us and said, “You guys are a lot of fun.  Maybe you should come back to the house after and we can have a soup orgy.”  Whoa!  What?  Wait…  Whoa!..  That was a lot!  Here I was sitting across from the hottest quadriplegic ever, and she was inviting my buddy and I to have an orgy with her…  I am not even sure what the ‘soup’ part meant.  Now, I like a good adventure, and I like to do crazy things, but I did not think that I needed to have an orgy with my buddy and a quadriplegic, even if she is the hottest quad ever.  Craziness…  Everyone kept on drinking and I kept at the water.  The lights went down and the the Pink Floyd tribute band came back on.  I told everyone I was going to race for the toilet.  My table of people pointed me in the right direction as my orientation had been leaving me.

I got into the bathroom, stepped up to the urinal, and unzipped my tuxedo pants.  I was immediately taken aback.  ‘What the fuck?!  Oh…right…’  I can say with certainty, that when you step up to the urinal, high on mushrooms, and find that there is a sock stuffed in your crotch safe-t-pinned to your underwear that you forgot you had put there, it is quite a surprise!

I had to do some crotch maneuvering, had my pee and I headed back into the Show Lounge towards the stage.  The band was back in full force.  I stood off to the side of the stage and I realized how much I enjoyed standing up while the music was playing.  But I felt like I should get back to my friends so that they were not wondering where their high-friend who was and I headed back to my chair at the table.  I was only sitting for a moment when the music totally took me in.  I was very fucking high.  The music was loud.  In no time, the music was so powerful that it was just entering my body with an audio force.  The Pink Floyd Experience was full blast into a side of The Wall, and the music was inside of me.  I would get so into it as the band was playing that I stopped being a regular human my body became a channel for the music to be released.  I danced sitting down in my chair harder than anyone has ever danced in the history of time sitting in a chair.  I was all over the place, on the edge of my seat as my hands, head and feet were flailing to the sound of the band.  There were times when it felt like the music was coming right out of me and I felt like I was going to explode trying to release all of it from inside of me.  It was electric and I was just a medium for the sound that was entering my ears and finding ways to discharge itself though my torso and extremities.  It felt like the music coming through me to be released to the world in the form of body movement was so strong that I could have probably shot lightning bolts from my hands and feet had I wanted to.  It was fucking amazing.

I was a chair-dancing distraction and I needed to stand up and move to the music.  I could not sit any longer so I scanned the crowd for the woman in her 50’s who had asked me to dance.  I told my table, “I need to dance and move,” and I got up to approach the woman.  She was happy to dance and we went to the side of the stage to feel the music.  I was so high that I was having a hard time with my balance as I danced, but managed somehow.  We just felt the Dark Side of the Moon.  It was so incredible.  The the Pink Floyd tribute band just captivated us.  I was with three women, dancing, when a 50 year old indigenous woman with no teeth came up to me and wanted to dance.  She was complimenting me on my clothes.  Then she was facing me, rather than the stage, trying to get my attention as I danced and she tried to dance with me.  It made me feel uncomfortable and I wondered how often I have made women feel the same thing.  She eventually left me and I just got to dance with the lady who I had originally gone with to the side of the stage.  We swayed for a couple of songs and just felt the music as we grooved along.  Then we decided to head towards the middle of the front of the stage to get as much as we could out of the experience.  As we migrated, others watching our dancing were inspired and then came to join us.  In a short amount of time there was a crowd moving along with us to the the Pink Floyd tribute band.  We made the party.  I was just up there losing my mind and having a blast in a powder-blue tuxedo.  It was fantastic until the last song finished and the concert was complete.

We shook hands with the band.  There was an awful scent coming from me from dancing so hard.  Finally, in my life, I was an ugly, smelly, rock star.  I hugged the hell out of my dancing partner and thanked her for helping to make my night.  When lights came on my dancing partner and I headed back to our tables to our friends.  Melissa was no longer wearing my pink Floyd shirt so I gave it to my dancing friend as a memory of the night.

When we were gathered at the table, people wanted photographs with us.  We got some for ourselves, made friends with those around us.  We were nearly the last to leave the venue.  Wizzer got sidetracked inside of the casino and we lost him.  I was pushing Melissa in her wheelchair through the building when security came up to me.  They knew who I was and asked me, “Where is your pink shirt?”  I said that I had given it way to a girl.  They said, “Umm, yea….  You are going to have to get that back…”  I looked down and a lot of me and a lot of hair was hanging out that would have normally had a shirt covering behind the tuxedo jacket.  I asked, “Am I too revealing?”  They said, “Yea, you are too revealing…”  I told them that I was just going to take Melissa outside for a smoke and then I would sort it out.

Wizzer sent me a text message to tell me that he was at a bar a couple of blocks away and to meet him there.  Melissa and David did not want to go to the bar, so I said goodbye to them and thanked them for the night.  A security guard gave me directions to get to the bar where I wanted to be.  It was freezing-cold winter outside.  I got lost and was hiding behind a large pillar to stay out of the harsh and piercing wind when a woman came by.  I jumped out at her to ask her how to get to the bar I was looking for before I froze to death.  She was surprisingly unafraid of me, likely due to the suit, and sorted out my directions.  I was concerned that I was not going to be allowed into the bar because of my lack of shirt, but luckily there were no bouncers at the door.  I was a little insecure as I was coming down from the magic and was walking around in an ordinary bar in a powder-blue tuxedo, shirtless.

Wizzer was sitting on lounge chair beside the bar’s stage.  He squealed with delight when he noticed me walking towards him.  Beside him was a couch that I used most of as I sprawled out as we talked about the concert.  I guess it was quite a scene with my sock-boner standing out because the girls at the table next to us were smiling at Wizzer and I, trying to steal pictures of us and presumably, my crotch situation.  It was an obvious and massive bulge.  Wizzer was making fun of it.  The girls were smirking at us when they would walk past.  I was the creepiest I have ever looked in my life.  Eventually the bravest girl got close enough to us that I called her over.  She wanted to know about my crotch-factor.  I told her our story from the day.  I told her that I am on a bender.  Later, as I was walking through the bar, a red-head cut me off, started walking ahead of me, reached behind herself to squeeze my crotch and told me, “I’ve had my eye on you all night.”  It made me wonder how much time girls spend looking at men’s packages…

An hour or so later, the mushrooms began to really fade and all of my power left me.  I did not have enough energy to be fun anymore.  I had a beer with Wizzer, but I was wore out, tired and ready to go home.  Before leaving the bar Wizzer asked, “What do you think would have happened if we would have had the orgy with Melissa?”  He made the motion with his hands as he asked, “Do you think I would have had to push the wheelchair back and forth and back and forth and back and forth?”

Holy wow Wizzer…

Just…wow…