Crime and Mushrooms
Kids, please don’t do drugs.
I know, you probably think I’m the last person who should be giving you this advice. Usually I’d say you do you, whatever rocks your boat, make your own mistakes, all of that, but after last Saturday, I feel I need to issue a fair warning.
Let me explain.
And to do that properly, we need to go back to the day before. On Friday, at Sonance, you saw what went down there, I was feeling pretty relaxed. Sonance isn’t one of those places where I usually feel I have to watch my back. There seems to be a mutual understanding that we keep that sort of business outside.
The problem is that once your profile gets a little too heated, that confidence eventually runs its course. I was dancing, flirting a little, casually assessing who I might spend the rest of the night with, when suddenly I got made. Someone knew, it was obvious by the way she looked at me. I had to act quickly and I decided to end her right there on the dancefloor.
I derendered her.
In front of everyone. I know. Brutal.
But that’s another thing about rising to my level. At some point you can basically stand on the corner of Fifth Avenue and derender people in broad daylight and nobody touches you, so I figured the Sonance dancefloor was probably safe.
Unfortunately, the grid is larger than that dancefloor. Which left me with the evidence. Luckily Chili was there, although she was freaking out a little about me having just derendered someone in front of an entire club. Normally I would have left her there to deal with her emotions, but I needed a distraction.
And you can say many things about Chils, but the woman knows how to behave like a spotlight magnet. So I kept her around.
The next day, I found a nice little forest on the map. Remote. Peaceful. Trees everywhere. Perfect place to bury anything that might link me to the crime scene. The problem is that even when I’m specifically trying to avoid nightlife, apparently I can still walk straight into a club. Because that little forest turned out to be the newest venue of The Drip.
And this is where things got weird.
It began with a mushroom. I recognized it immediately. I’ve had one like that before. They’re great. I knew exactly what I was doing. Or at least I thought I did.
I sat down at the edge of the forest for a moment, waiting for the mushroom to do what mushrooms do, when things started swirling around me. Flying things and I don’t like flying things, so I got up and walked away from them.
Which was a mistake, because I walked straight into...well...
Fairies. They had wings. There was some sort of bird man behind the decks. Decent tunes, actually. And everywhere I looked, I saw people I thought I recognized, except I could no longer work out whether they were really there or whether my brain had just started populating the forest with people from my contact list. Every time I convinced myself something was real, something even less plausible happened.
Then the Spanish gang arrived. All of them. Or at least muchos. Suddenly the forest was loud. Everybody was everywhere. Things were turning loco considerably faster than I could process them and then everybody started line dancing. I felt left out, but I also felt deeply loved. That’s what drugs do to you. Then Roux and Night appeared out of nowhere. Xeno was there. Again. With his pets. Kiri and Lola seemed to be wearing tactical gear. I think I saw a panda. There was an enormous afro.
I should stop here before you all decide I’m mental and arrange for someone to collect me.
I have no idea how I got home. Maybe I called an Uber, but I could also have fallen through a magic portal and maybe I followed a yellow brick road and took a left somewhere before Kansas, but the next morning I woke up feeling surprisingly good.
Clear-headed, even.
The evidence still needs to disappear somewhere, but apparently, during all of this, I had my camera with me and I found photos.
So some of it was real, which, frankly, is the part that worries me most.
Click them for a larger resolution and save.
This post is not sponsored or paid for in any way. I was also not blackmailed or tortured to write it.
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