Sage; a fucking legend and a hard worker.
"Yeah, man!"
- Sage
DISCLAIMER
DRUGS ARE AGAINST THE LAW.
I DO NOT DO DRUGS.
IN FACT,
IF SOMEBODY GAVE ME DRUGS,
I'D TELL ON THEM TO THE POLICE.
SAGE DOESN'T DO DRUGS EITHER, AND HAS IN FACT AGREED TO BE A CHARACTER IN THIS
COMPLETELY FICTIONAL
STORY
WHICH HAS BEEN WRITTEN FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT.
Enjoy.
I walked down the dusty trail, more and more becoming visible behind the thin veil of trees ahead. I could make out a fire engine next to the wool shed and a handful of vehicles, some of which were painted with patterns and bright colours; I was definitely in the right place.
I was still clutching the beer my last ride, Doug had given me, and was feeling very proud of myself, having arrived on the date me and Dad had agreed on, even if the sun was dipping a bit.
"Hello!?" I called out.
"Hello!" a woman's voice called back, and my old man was nowhere to be seen - I'd beaten him. Dad had told me about sage though, who we were assigned "watch duty" with two weeks before Confest, as volunteers. She is a kind, bubbly character with a knack of disappearing then coming back a day later and a million problems are suddenly resolved. Basically, it was our job to keep an eye on the site and detour anyone who wasn't a volunteer or who wanted to sneak in and not pay for tickets from the site. I continued walking to a small brick building behind a tin shed, and surely enough there she was. We hugged and introduced ourselves, then walked into the brick cottage. It consisted of two rooms - the kitchen and the dining room, and on the other side was the door to the laundry and shower. Sage took a seat at the table in the dining room in front of her laptop. She had paused some film about a pilot with a drinking problem who does some bad things or some such, and continued to watch it as we chatted about stuff and smoked some cigarettes. As we began to speak more on the topic of Confest, Sage very politely asked "Do you want some weed?"
I was taken aback; Drugs, and confest hadn't started yet! "Are you gonna smoke too?"
"Nah, man, but you area welcome to." she replied. I thought about it for a moment, and about my personal boundaries and such; to me, smoking alone is like drinking alone - a bit depressing as a whole, so I declined. We keeps smoking and watching her film, and she kept rolling more cigarettes. I put the smoke to my lips and inhaled deeply. The smoke was very harsh, causing my teeth to bare. I pulled away the roll and looked at both ends. A roach; "figures" I thought to myself as I took another drag. "How strong is this stuff?" I asked, "It's pretty harsh."
"It's a mix of strong and weak really."
"Shit." I thought to myself and asked "Are you sure you don't want some?"
"Yeah man, I'm fine. You enjoy; take a load off."
"Meh," I thought "I suppose I deserve this" and I kept smoking as the film concluded. Sage closed her laptop, and said "I'm going to set up your bed man, you're sleeping in the Dasha tonight."
I finished the joint and opened my mouth to protest; to offer help setting my bed up, but no words came out. The dope hit me HARD; my face was hot and tingling, my arms were like jelly, and my head was spinning - I felt great! Whatever Sage had given me was some kind of wonder-weed. My lips were dry and my throat was parched, and Sage was already off setting up my bed. The kitchen was about three meters away. I stood, getting higher and higher with every passing moment. I got to the doorway and put my hand on it to balance myself.
Plates smashing in the distance; my ears are ringing.
I'm lying flat on my back looking at the ceiling, unsure for a moment of where I am. I look up at where my feet are in the kitchen doorway. I stand, walk quickly to the sink and begin to fill my bottle.
A plane crashing; my head is throbbing a little now.
The tap is still running, I am looking at the underside of the steel kitchen table, which is now slightly askew. I get up, grab my bottle from the sink, drink, and then quickly manoeuvre myself to the chair nearest the kitchen doorway at the table in the next room, my head falling into my arms, unable to sit upright. "Eeeeeeeergh..." The throbbing is gone, and I am in bliss. Sage walks back in "Your room is all set up, and all your gear is in there too on the second bed."
"Cheeeers duuuude..." I responded, grinning.
"No worries, man!"
From there, It is pretty foggy what happened. We talked a long time, I gather that much; possibly about some deep seated issues in my life and other things - major epiphanies I can't remember at all. At some stage in the evening, after having not shut up for an hour, I remember looking up and Sage was gone. A distant memory of me acknowledging her as she said goodnight, telling her I'd be okay to get to bed once I sobered up a bit, flashed across my mind. So I lay there, lifting my head once or twice to see if it was getting any easier. I then stood without falling over, and made my way outside to the tin shed in front of the brick cottage and walked to the wooden door at the front of it, which bore a sign reading "The Dasha". I pushed the door open, spotted my gear to the right, and an empty bed with my sleeping bag on it and my jacket rolled up like a pillow.
"Sage, you sexy beast."
I crashed.
I'd made it to confest, and now I'd been initiated into the wild lifestyle by getting totally blazed; It truly was A Baptism By Fire.
very cool :)
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