Additional trial with 3-MeO-PCP. A friend and I went to a Caribou show dressed as two DEA agents, complete with cartoonish mustaches and aviators. I figured there would be enough kids on drugs at this show that we could get a solid act going. Sure enough, there were 5-6 Hunter S. Thompsons, other suspiciously drug-related costumes, and people simply tripping out on their psychedelic of choice.
Before the show, my friend and I walked down the main street in town, which typically hosts 50,000-80,000 people on Halloween. About half way there we ducked into an alley and insufflated the 3-meo-PCP. It wasn’t measured precisely, but I would estimate that my friend had roughly 4 mg and I had 6-8 mg. That adds up, since I brought 20 mg with me, and had 9 mg remaining. Within 5 minutes, the effects were apparent. We waltzed through the police barricade and heard an officer say, “Good to see the federal boys showed up.” The absurdity of the situation required restraint, as occasionally I would burst into maniacal fits of laughter. The whole situation quickly developed into a wonky carnival scene. We could act totally weird and nobody would even raise an eyebrow. Michael Jackson tunes spilled out onto the street from one bar, and I felt compelled to break out some Thriller moves in the middle of the sidewalk. I was bursting with confidence, though I’m sure I looked absolutely ridiculous. We made conversation with various groups of people, mostly staying in character. My friend offered a mustache ride to a group of attractive females that asked for us to pose for a picture. This still makes me laugh. At one point, I heard quick footsteps behind me, which seemed to not be going anywhere so I suddenly stopped in my tracks and turned with an authoritative glare, only to find a 10 year old girl running in place, holding her father’s hand. I think I scared her. The girl’s dad laughed at least. At this point, I was having a difficult time speaking coherently, though I still managed to blurt out phrases that usually made sense. When they didn’t, they were followed by surges of laughter. My legs were feeling increasingly bouncy, though walking was not terribly difficult. A noticeable tension was present in my legs. I had to stop multiple times to stretch my leg muscles. I recall talking with a homeless man and another guy that looked like Jerry Garcia for a few minutes before making it back to the venue. I have no idea what we talked about, other than that it was something about his dog eating his weed or some such nonsense.
Back at the venue, our modus operandi evolved from “keeping the streets clean” to “enforcing drugs.” My original plan was to incite paranoia by posing as DEA agents at a venue filled with kids on drugs, but our costumes were too ridiculous looking for anybody to fall for it. We tried arresting one of the Hunter S. Thompsons, but mostly just made sure that "drugs were being enforced"...fortunately, work was easy as the majority seemed to have already enforced drugs on themselves. The opening acts were not bad, but I found the wall of sound to be a bit too much. The effects weakened a bit as the main act came on, making the show more enjoyable. Above a certain level, dissociatives tend to sensitize me to sound, and loud noise can seem unpleasant and overwhelming. The show was a freak-out dance fest, with almost everybody in costume including the band. There were a surprising number of attractive girls around me. If I weren’t a married man, I surely would have felt comfortable going beyond exchanging smiles and enthusiastic expletives. Two amazing percussionists took the front of the stage. The energy in the room was incredible. See here for the show played the preceding night –
Sun encore. Also, see here for those unfamiliar with the band –
Jamelia. The live experience and the recorded albums are completely different experiences.