I'm going to give you a story and it's long.
So my friend, we'll call Bobo, was thinking he was badass because he did hippie flips at work. Taking shroom and ecstasy. We actually threw a kegger atop a skyscraper whilst working security. Anyway, he figured he was experienced and could handle anything. He’d never dropped acid before, however.
Word gets back to me that someone we knew had a vile of pretty pure acid and was selling it pretty inexpensively for the quality. We talk to some mutual friends and like 9 of us decide to go and meet the dealer and purchase our doses.
We meet up with the dealer and the majority of us purchase two hits, because previous experience had taught us how hardcore this quality would
Make us trip. Inexperienced Bobo decided to get into a contest with someone else over how many hits he could take. The other guy stopped at three. Bobo took seven. Seven fucking hits on his first trip.
Well, we go and wander the city frying off our asses and having a great time. Billboards with circles on them were dancing around, plants blowing in the wind creating tracers, friends’ faces spinning and bubbling, etc. All is good in the world.
We decided to go to our friend’s house who wasn’t tripping and his roommate—a sweet bisexual woman who took my virginity—was there. She didn’t know we were tripping but the vibe was wrong and both parties agreed to do other things. Our group left and split as some wanted to go home.
Three of us decided to go to the arboretum and look at nature. It’s part of Golden Gate Park and is beautiful. It’s like being in the forest inside the city. Well, they lock it at night so nobody can enter the outdoor enclosure. Not an issue.
We get there, one of us hops the gate and moves the turnstile to let the rest of us in—you could manipulate it from the inside because it always needs to be operational so no wayward hiker or muser gets stuck inside.
We enter and we’re standing in a vast open field, beneath the effulgent full moonlight. One guy and I start waxing philosophically and Bobo starts wandering the field.
I’m tripping so hard at the time that the Moon has morphed into Socrates’ face, like in the busts of him. The clouds start crossing the moon and the moon morphs into the face of God. The clouds turned into the wind. I knew it was god blowing life into the world and causing the tides and wind, etc. really strange thought as an atheist. Well technically agnostic in knowledge but atheist in belief.
As this happens, Bauch and I start conversing about philosophy and nature and we notice Bobo is gone.
A light shines. Shit!
Park patrol.
Bauch and I are next to a tree that precludes them from seeing us at this point we make a pact that if the light approaches us we’re running in different directions.
The light swiftly approaches us. We break off in opposite directions. I end up going off the beaten path and head through the forestry wilderness until I reach the slop at the side of the park. I climb it on hands and knees and get to the top where there’s a barbed wire covered fence. There’s a hidden path skirting the park, next to the fence, covered by a bow of trees. I ran like a rat in an experimental maze until I found a place where there was no barbed wire. I hopped the fence.
I landed on my feet and walked to the bus shelter and leaned against it. Right then an officer drove by. He kept on rolling by and I knew I was in the clear.
I walked up to the donut shop that was a meet up spot for us if anything went wrong. Nobody was there. I went to a pay phone and called Bobo, to no avail. His phone was off. I called Bauch and he was already home. He said that Matt was probably just wandering and would head to my house, where he was staying at the time (he lived outside the city and spent a lot of time with me).
I ambulated home in a meandering way, checking spots I think he might be at. Finally I get home. I walk into my room and am tripping so nicely that I decided to endeavor to listen to the entire corpus of the band Tool.
Around 2am
ring ring
This is where shit gets interesting.
I answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey, dude, I need you to come get me out of the hospital... and bring clothes.” is Bobo’s response.
What the fuck happened?
So I get my skateboard, grab some old throwaway clothes, put them in my backpack, and head out to the hospital he informed me he was at.
I skate through the drug capital of the city, the infamous Haight Street, (not as bad now) and see cops everywhere. Not good because the city designated skateboarding a crime, but I wasn’t going to walk all that way. Luckily nobody cared.
I get to the hospital he stated he was at. I enter the emergency room and inquire about him. Two black security guards are fucking turning into winking cross, like this old cartoon where the crows would ask for black eyed peas, and their voices are turning into some weird Cajun slang. They’re befuddled and say nobody fitting that description is there. They go to ask inside when a doctor comes out and tells me that my friend probably meant another hospital nearby.
Tripping off my ass. I think the dude dressed like a smurf, and skate to the other hospital. I enter and there is Bobo.
He runs over in a hospital gown, looking like he got beat by an angry husband.
“They don’t know about you; I told them nothing!”
Grabs the backpack of clothes and runs behind a curtain, before shortly returning dressed. We start to head out and a nurse chases us down and makes him sign a paper.
She whispers on his ear, “It’s okay; it happens more than you think.”
We exit the hospital and I turn and immediately ask, “What the fuck happened?”
His story in my words:
“As I wandered beneath the moon in the vastness of existence, I decided to contemplate my sadness. I walked and walked endlessly, and realized I was alone. Nobody was around. I stopped at the lake. I looked in the lake and had the epiphany that I was depressed because of material possessions. “
I took my keys, wallet, and phone from my pockets and threw them into the lake. I was divorcing myself from the objects that make one crestfallen.
I continued to wander wayward through the park for what seemed like an infinity.
I hadn’t seen a human and I started to realize it was because I was dead. When I divorced myself of possessions, I also divorced myself from life. I were dead and passing into the netherworld.
I ambulated more until I came hooky the Palace of Fine Arts.”
As a beautiful British woman who has never seen America, I’m guessing you don’t know what that is. Imagine the most impressive fucking museum facade you could ever see. Directly in front of it, in a central position is the most magnificent fountain when gilded by moonlight and the orange glow of the the museum lights. To the left of the fountain is a giant outdoor stage (called the Banchill or something), and directly across from the Palace of Fine Arts, on the opposite side of the fountain is another museum building that is worthy of being included as a piece of architectural genius that would make the Greeks proud.
“I saw the Palace of Fine Arts and I knew I had reached my destination. This was the gate to Heaven. I was dead and this was the entrance to the netherworld.
I walked to the museum doors and knocked. An angel cane over (a guard) and told me they were closed. How the fuck is Heaven closed? Were they denying me entrance to heaven?
I punched the guard and broke through the doors! I would not be denied entrance to Heaven! I ran in and two more angels grabbed me and fought me and threw me out of the building!
I was not to be denied entrance to Heaven! With all my might and force, I tore the locked doors asunder and entered! The angel was on the phone getting back up so I punched him in the face and hung up the phone. Three more angels then attacked me and threw me out again!
I ran to the fountain and tore off my clothes, stuck my arms in the air and shouted to the sky, “Why have you forsaken me God?! Why!!”
Then the world flashed on red and blue. There were three police cars there. There were nine cops.
I had a second epiphany. God heard my call! I wasn’t previously allowed to enter because I wasn’t completely dead. God sent the cops to finish off killing me so I could enter heaven. Buck naked, I charged headlong into the offices. “
At this time they proceeded to beat the living shit out of him. Hence, why he was naked and beat up in the hospital.
After that we wandered around the park and attempted to find his lost belongings. The stuff in the fountain had been already disposed of or stolen. The stuff in the pond was too deep to attempt to find.
He called his father and claimed he got drunk at a party and fell down some steps and also misplaced his keys.
His dad was a hardcore alcoholic and wasn’t judgmental as a consequence of his own nefarious and retarded actions. He said he’d drive to the city and bring him his spare car keys.
Matt then had the third epiphany and remembered that he had a hidden key beneath his car. We got in and went to eat breakfast.
He completely forgot his father was coming down. He remembers about five hours later. We went to the local dive bar where his dad had been a known regular drunk for 30 years or more. We went in there, he bought us drinks and had completely forgot why he came to the city in the first place due to excessive alcohol consumption throughout the day.
tll;dr: Friend thought he was dead, endeavored to break into a museum that he thought was Heaven. Guards tossed him out. He broke back in and assaulted the guards. Thrown out again. Goes to the fountain, strips, complains about being forsaken by God, sees cops, realizes that they were sent to finish killing him, buck naked charges nine cops, you can guess the rest.