17. His friend waltzes in, MACHETE IN HAND, telling me he is ON LSD.
“A few years ago, a girlfriend and I lived in an apartment complex near some woods and a lake. I would occasionally take my banjo, Illy, out to this boards-on-wires-with-a-tarp hut I found in the woods. Mostly, kids used it to smoke pot, but it was also great to get some real down-south pickin’ goin’ on.
Anyway. I’m out there one night (I’m a fucking idiot), practicing chords or whatever (I still suck at it). Cuesticks breaking, people shouting, and distant slivers of light shining through the hut’s boards.
So, you know, I ignore it as it all comes closer.
A few moments later, one of them comes in. He seems a little hazy.
‘Are you the architect?’
‘No, I’m not.’
His friend waltzes in, MACHETE IN HAND, telling me he is ON LSD.
I play real chill as he and like four other friends come in and sit down next to me. They start telling me how euphoric they feel, how the banjo playing was euphoric (I guess Britney Spears on banjo should have that effect), and how he brought his machete in case ‘there were crazy woods people’.
Anyway, my then-girlfriend calls. I calmly tell her ‘I met some friends.’ She asked if they were high and if I was high, when one of them shouted that they were on LSD. Girlfriend wanted me to come home right away, I told her I would be soon. Really, I just didn’t want to immediately upset they machete wankers just in case.
Eventually, I tell them ‘I need to get home to my girlfriend.’ Bonus story, I get to the apartment and get chewed out for not coming right home after she got off work. Telling her I was trying to be careful around machete-LSD-wankers and was trying to not die didn’t matter because she was a narcissist like her then-dying dad.”