“This place is awesome!” said Mitch as
he made his way through my front door and into my new apartment for the first
time.
“Thanks man. Been about two weeks, mostly everything is
unpacked. It’s been a bit expensive but
I think I have everything I need”
I motioned towards the vacuum cleaner,
still sealed within its cardboard prison.
It was my first time living on my own,
and I was determined to be prepared.
Sure there had been housemates and share houses, but this was different
– this was all mine. Once I locked the
door of my apartment, I could be as naked or as drunk as I wanted, free from
shame or judgement. Once the blinds were
closed, not even God could watch me masturbate.
Mitch ventured into my tiny kitchen,
opening every cupboard door and peeking inside.
He extracted a can of baked beans and regarded it with awe.
“You have food! Like a real house! Dude this is incredible – you’re like a
proper grown up now!”
“We are grown-ups – some of us just don’t realise it yet” I admonished,
snatching the can of beans and returning it to the cupboard.
Still excited, Mitch raced past me
into the bedroom, collapsing on to my large new bed. It had only arrived a few days ago, replacing
the sad inflatable mattress I’d been using.
“Look at this bed! It’s fucken huge! Once you bring those boys back here they’re
not gonna have a chance!”
Mitch sprung up off the bed and walked
over to his backpack by the door. He extracted
a small clear plastic bag containing five hand rolled cigarettes. Opening the bag he plucked out one of the
cigarettes and handed it to me. The
scent was unmistakable.
“You wanna get stoned in my
apartment?” I asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Why not? Its Friday night, you don’t
have to work tomorrow”
I opened the glass doors and stepped
out onto the small balcony with the joint dangling from my mouth, Mitch handed
me a lighter, and I ignited the tip and inhaled. My head spun, then the whole world seemed to
tilt on a strange angle bringing with it a pleasant euphoria. I took another drag of the joint and then
handed it to Mitch.
“If we’re gonna do this, why not do it
right?”
I walked back into my apartment and
into the kitchen producing a bottle of red wine that had been perched upon my
fridge.
Mitch made his way through the joint.
“I got given this as a gift from the
office. I don’t really drink wine, but
it could be could be fun?”
An hour later, Mitch and I had smoked
five joints and made our way through most of the wine. Comfortably sat on my living room floor with
Radiohead playing, I was enjoying my chemical high while listening to Mitch who
was in the middle of a rant.
“You see the thing about the new world
order is that it’s insidious. It’s being
formed right under your nose, behind the scenes, orchestrated by powerful
players who laugh behind the curtains”
“Seriously, what are you talking about
man?”
“I’m talking about the future of every
man, woman and child on this planet!”
“You’re stoned”
“No you’re stoned, and you’re not listening! You’re not seeing the signs!”
Waving off Mitch’s incoherent rant, I
stood up and realised how hungry I was.
“I’m going to cook a steak” I
announced, unconsciously rubbing my belly.
“What?
Cook a steak? You’re smashed
dude, sit down” Mitch tugged at my shirt but I was too fast, and before long I
was in the kitchen with two T-bones sizzling away in a pan before me.
“That was awesome” Mitch said as he
placed his plate on the kitchen sink.
“Well if there’s one thing I know how
to do its cook a steak while stoned”
Mitch looked at me confused, his eyes
glazed and his head tilted to one side.
“Dude?
I don’t feel so good…”
Clutching his mouth, he moved past me
quickly, unlocked the door to the balcony and let out a mighty roar as pink
vomit splattered onto the ground below.
Turns out that weed, red wine and steak aren’t exactly a healthy
combination. Pretty soon I was dangled over
the balcony next to Mitch, vomiting alongside him.
This was youth.
This was freedom.
This was me vomiting more than I ever had
done before.
This was how I spent my
twenties.
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