As I lay there in my bed just thinking, thinking about nothing or was it really something.

Staring blankly at the ceiling with my arms crossed behind my head.

When suddenly a memory, just hit me like a flashback.

Holy moly it wasn’t that long ago that I’d be sitting behind a screen playing Xbox, and not recovering from a night of a cocktail of drugs and debauchery.

It was Friday midafternoon when a pal rang me, enquiring if I was interested in checking out Skid Row that night at the Roxy.

From where I live and to where the venue was, it was an hour’s plus drive.

We agreed to me at a Hudson’s for a snack and a yak, before finding bar near the venue.

That was the plan, as I waited and waited for her to arrive.

Eventually a young lady from Hudson’s walked over and asked for my name.

“Why, oh it’s Simmo or Alex.” I replied, a bit surprised.

“Ok, a girl called Nikki rang and left a message for you,” She said, then read out the message.

I’m so sorry, but I can’t make it after all, something has suddenly come up.

Raincheck hugs’n kisses,

Love Nikki

“Thanks,” I said to the waitress, and paid up and left.

I walked and thought to myself.

Bloody typical of Nikki, always thinking cock before friends.

She never changes and now I am fucked as she had the tickets.

I walked a few blocks to a bar I used to frequent, when I turned 21.

After an hour, I decided to visit some old friends.

I went back to the station and drove my car to the “Potato Bros.” house.

They weren’t related but during school, everyone called them that because of their Italian heritage.

These boys always wanted a game of cards, if I recall.

When I found there place, the front door was open as I knocked and walked inside.

Sure as the nose on my face, that’s what they were doing.

Poker and drinking, there were a few people playing.

“Well, look what the mutha fuckin’ cat dragged in,” Rizzo, shouted out.

They all greeted me with hugs and someone poured me a (I still don’t know what it was), and I sat down next to some stranger.

He must have been the driver for one of the poker players.

His name was Petey or PT, as we shook hands.

We sat done and sipped out, I think grappa.

PT was much older than us, he was like 45-50 while we were all around 25 years old.

“So, you’re not a gambler like the others?” PT asked.

“Nope, always lose to these guys,” I said, with a smirk.

While guys got into their card game, PT and myself sat and chatted.

I found we had many things in common, plus he wasn’t bored just sitting there.

He loved hotted up cars and motorsport, could stop talking about car.

I was starting to get bored and thought about making tracks for home.

PT must felt the vibes of my boredom and got up to take a leak.

Now I was thinking of driving to a late-night diner and getting some coffee into me.

In the meantime I walked outside the back to get some fresh air and to clear my head.

The smoke filled house was getting stuffy.

Not long after the Big Griff came out and lit up a smoke.

“Fuck it’s good to see you man,” He said, with his Bronx-Italian accent.

“Yeah me too, been a while since I been to the old hood,” I followed.

“Oh man, try this latest shit I got my hands on,” He said.

I looked at him pull out a small plastic bottle.

“What the fuck, ah nah not into pills,” I tried to tell him.

“Go on, it’s the good stuff,” He shook the bottle, sounded like it was almost empty.

I didn’t want too, after last time I took one of his pills, I stripped off and ran around the streets like an idiot.

“Open your palm, try it here or try it at home, just try it,” I did as he wanted.

A purple pill rolled out of the bottle, the size of a tic-tac.

“What is it,” I asked.

“It’s last of an old batch from a bygone era,” He sounded excited.

I stared at it, puzzled.

“L S D, man,” he said, I felt intrigued.

“Where’d you get it?” I asked.

“Well you know that that Smokey Joe, the Chemist,” Griff asked.

“Yeah, what about him,” I asked.

“He just retired and lost a game of cards and paid us in party drugs,” He sounded excited.

“Shit,” I looked at him.

“Well this is the last of his shit,” he said, sadly.

“Take it whenever you want, you can crash here if you want,” with that offer, I decided to pop it.

I looked at Griff and gave him a smirk.

Not having the worry of driving home, I felt more relaxed.

“Well here goes, but if I do something stupid then it’s on you,” I said and popped the pill.

Griffo winked and returned back inside to his cards.

I soon went back inside and sat back down.

PT soon returned, with beers from his cars cooler.

There was a scent of weed in the air, as I relaxed with a beer in my hand.

It wasn’t long before PT started crapping on about cars and machine again.

My now semi fatigued response was, that I’ll check it out the next time I am in the neighborhood.

“Why not now, I want to get my pick-up back to my house from work,” He suggested.

“Ok, let’s go,” I answered, as I didn’t give a fuck.

It was either being bored to death with car talk or cards, I was regretting not going home when I had the chance.

When we walked to his workshop and picked up his pick-up truck and arrived at his place, my eyes couldn’t believe how many muscle cars he owned.

There was all these photos of him doing adventurous stuff, like skydiving, mountain climbing etc.

I haven’t done half of what he’s done.

In pit lane an Indianapolis with some pit crew.

Looking at all the pictures was giving me a rush.

I wasn’t sure if it was the LSD and booze kicking or what, but I was starting to feel horny.

PT invited me inside his house for some more cold beers, I obliged.

He ended up in his basement where there was more framed photos of him and cars and sports.

PT was slowly getting pissed and opening up more.

He started complaining about his wife a bit.

“She thinks I am that stupid, that while I am driving at night that she’s out screwing someone.” He was getting a bit worked up.

I just listened.

“Look, its 11:00PM on a Saturday, where the fuck is she,” he was almost crying.

I glanced over some photos and saw her, she was hot but no super model.

“I know the guy she’s with and how long it’s being going on for but I don’t give a shit, just show me some respect and own up to it,” he threw his beer.

I was starting to freak out, I could do was sit and wish he change the subject.

“Chill out dude, you’re ruining a good night,” I pleaded.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right, sorry,” He calmed down.

It was quiet, when I looked back at PT.

Sudden I felt this urge or feeling building up in me.

PT had no idea I had taken acid earlier.

He started slowly building up and moaning about Roberta again.

While he was yapping, I sensed my cock growing inside my pants.

I was in a trance, not taking any of his words in.

There was more than two guys talking going on here.

“So, when she due back,” I asked, as I looked into his eyes.

“Probably in the morning, who knows,” he said.

I smirked.

“Well buddy, sounds like you could use a good sucking,” I suggesting said.

I couldn’t believe I just said that, as I wasn’t that way inclined.

Seems like the acid had relaxed something inside me.

I then glance at PT and awaited his response.

“Are you offering or do we walk to a bar and pick up some drunk girls?” He asked.

“An offer!