May 20, 2016 - H6 - LSDaytona Boardwalk

 

Sprawled out across the arcade floor, flung free from that inexplicable racecar crash, I focused on that boy's overhead frown and realized that, hey, I hadn’t died after all.

But oh, geez…

I probably should have.

A sea of faces scowled down at me, none of their expressions good, ranging from…

Omigod, what a weirdo…

All the way up to…

Quick, hide your sisters and daughters.

I nodded at the child and plucked my mock sea captain’s cap off the floor and barefooted out the door onto the Daytona Beach Boardwalk, gazing back at the spectrum of sneers. That’s when I decided, indubitably, hallucinogenic drugs were not my cup of tea.

I did not like doubting my senses…

In fact, I hated it.

And…

Doubting was a polite way of putting it…

Incredulous was way more accurate.

Maybe if I ate something, that would help bring me back down to planet Earth?

Hmm…

It was a worth a shot…

So, I wandered over to a sudden window in a random wall on an unexpected building and pointed to a really bad drawing of an ice cream cone.

“Chocolate, please.”

The bored clerk handed me a dripping ice cream and I promptly dribbled the chocolate on my pants in the most embarrassing place. I dealt myself a handful of ultra-bright napkins and, dabbing at my crotch, I shuffled off slurping the sweet coolness.

Of course it dripped again but I dodged the glob.

It splattered against the sidewalk, instead, hosing my naked toes. I stared down at the messy stain and my jaw dropped in disbelief as the wet blob withdrew into itself, disappearing entirely with a bizarre slurping noise. Abruptly, it reappeared in a different spot, expanding with an electric hum over by my other foot so I kicked it up in self-defense.

“What the…?”

I became obsessed with surviving the hazardous meltdown.

I furiously licked the dribbles and dodged all the throbbing liver-stains that rudely pummeled the concrete surrounding my feet. I had to hop over here, shuffle over there, and dance on my toes to avoid all the mocha madness and, with all my bobbing around, my hat began to wobble off my head. I palmed it down and spun away from the Willie Wonka Chocolate spots with the ice cream cone pressed to my lips.

Meanwhile, off in the shadows…

I think Michael Jackson was over there observing my crazy capers because that could certainly explain a few things there, eh, Billie Jean?

“COREY!”

I blinked towards the voice until the fuzzy face came into focus.

Ah… It was the Tommy Chong lookalike, the doobie-downing doppelganger, and I still didn’t know his real name.

“What are you doing? You’re dancing around like Pinocchio, man.”

“Eating ice cream.”

“Maybe we should go back to the van… There’s a lot of really weird dudes around here right now.”

I couldn’t agree more as I followed the granny-glass hippie through the gathering crowd in the growing darkness back the way we had come. As we passed by the arcade, I poked in, noting that little boy from before hunched inside that demonic racing game, hooting and hollering, and I wondered if he was playing with my leftover dime. We arrived at the road ramp that spilled down to the beach and, on the far sidewalk across the street, a pretty young lady with long golden hair beamed over at me.

“Hey, good looking, where have you been all my life?”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that particular flirtation and, furthermore, I wasn’t even sure if I had heard her correctly so I pondered her query for a moment.

Finally…

“In another dimension, I think.”

Her smile melted away just like my ice cream.

“Screw you, man.”

She turned and stormed off.

“Wait, wait, I didn’t mean YOU… Aw, geez.”

Tommy Chong grinned at me over the tops of his rose colored glasses, concluding I was one of those Really Weird Dudes he had just mentioned a few moments ago. We made it back to the white panel van parked in the nighttime sand without further incident but the long hair hillbilly tossed a thumb towards the roof.

“Your buddy’s up there and he refuses to come down, man. He asked me to come get you.”

I followed his gesture, noticing Brent’s ghostly face from above a chrome ladder mounted to one of the rear cargo doors. He nodded gratefully as I climbed up.

“What’s happening, man?”

“A whole lot of weird.”

I plopped down next to him on the roof of the van, cross-legged, waiting for the LSD to wear off. It had been an interesting trip, I guess, mostly pleasant, but I concluded that I would never do anything like that ever again.

Sometime later, I heard a giggling voice down below and I leaned over to investigate. The golden haired girl from another dimension stood on the beach in jeans and a tie-dye t-shirt, smiling up at me.

“What are you doing up there?”

I suddenly realized what I was supposed to say…

“Waiting for you…”


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The past, the future, the real, the unreal…

All melded together into a gooey pile of Homer Simpson’s Play-Doh!

- BLACKWATER