Situation Normal. Atmosphere Breathable. Brainstem Injected. Dialogue Engaged.
Wednesday, November 05, 2003

Violence And Apathy

I went to that Halloween party on Friday night and had a blast. I drank over a case of beer, flirted with a girl in the kitchen until her boyfriend berated her through the kitchen window from outside, argued with a teenager that racism is stupid and that his sycophantic white supremacy blather would get him into trouble eventually, and finally threw up outside and got dragged home by my designated driver. Somewhere along the line I was stabbed in the arm with a lit cigarette. I think it was when the flirty girl fell on me. My costume was a pair of 3-D glasses and a budweiser hat made from cut up cans and yarn. It was my grandpa's. The glasses came with the 1998 Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue and I found them last week at my folks' house when I was cleaning out the last of my possesions there.

That was Friday night. Late Saturday night, actually Sunday morning, at 4am central time, my roomate got a call from his big sister invitng us to an acid/exstacy get-together. We declined. He was already asleep and I was hopelessly hooked to a gamecube game and unable set down the controller, let alone travel an hour's distance to start tripping at 6 in the morning on a Sunday. I went to bed around 7 am, and my roomie tried to wake me at 10 because there was some some of a trouble situation invloving his sister.

To make a long story short, some of her boyfriend's enemies in the Chicago club scene offered to hang out with them and have kiss and make up party. As veteran iliicit substance users, his sister and her boyfriend thought it was a fine idea. Unfortunately, the enemies had bad intentions and fed them PCP instead of acid. They all became very fucked up in a bad way, and my roomie was called to help. Eventually paramedics and police had to be invited to save some lives and sort them out. His sister may lose her child, who was present in the same house during the shenanigans. DCFS is investigating her worthiness as a mother. I spent all day Sunday helping to find the child, contacting the father, and just supporting everybody during a trying time in general. It was miserable.Tomorrow I am going to see the Hot Machines play at Schuba's. I haven't seen any live music since the Joe Strummer concert last winter, and I hear that this band is amazing. I hope so.

Author's note: 12/15/04: The people looking for Kurt(current roomie's sister's boyfriend) eventually killed him, by shooting, in a desolte field in Joliet. This was two months after he moved out of my apartment. He had been setting up dealers for the cops. He'd been busted while rolling two years ago, and made a deal. He was one setup short in the designated time period and rushed the last bust. They figured it out, so he was murdered. I found all this out posthumous. Woe.
7:56 PM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm


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