"'Til you puke?"
Edwards and I had locked ourselves inside his heavily barricaded bedroom. It was time to put on our pretty faces and doing lines was neither socially acceptable or a widely broadcast affair. Everyone at the party, down to the dumbest of blonde sorority girls knew what two men barricaded in a room meant in this town. It was not the thrill of gay porn or anything of that wild nature. The Columbian Dancing Dust was in full gear.
Between massive inhales I could hear the madness outside the thin pressed wood door. The party was a success, however, we were not quite in social butterfly mode. "A few more of these," motioned Edwards to the two-inch high pile of powder between us on his bedspread, "and we can get out of here."
"I hear you, kid," I smiled. "If I could only find my nose, I'd be ready."
A few moments later the knocking at the door brought us out of our ritual. It was heavy pounding like that of a bird thudding repeatedly against a windowpane. Benny was taking his chemical cocktail a bit too far. He was beyond social, he found himself locked in some drug frenzy demanding that we, "Open the God-damned door."
Edwards slid the mirror into the top nightstand drawer and I reached for the knob on the door. As I saw him look my way, we both made to exit the room only to find the frame blocked by the towering form of Benny. "What are you blocking the door for, Benny," I asked innocently?
"We're going to Pub," smiled Edwards. "Are you coming?"
"Huh," mouthed Benny. "But there's a party."
"Minor technicalities," I said. "Answer the question."
"No, I'm not feeling like Pub material," sighed Benny as he moved away from the door far enough for Edwards and I to enter the dart room.
"That's too bad, Benny. Harley and I are sure going to miss you there." With that, Edwards took his leave of the situation and walked over to say his goodbyes while I consoled Benny.
"You're in charge from here on out, big fella. Don't let them steal the beer," I said with a pat on Benny's shoulder. "I have all my faith and trust in you."
"Thanks, Harley," Benny smiled and walked lightly over to the keg to pump himself another glass of froth. I watched to see that Edwards was explaining our plans and Irish Red was gathering his leather jacket from under the ass of a half-coherent Asian girl. She had to be Asian or Red would've put his fist through her the moment she even approached that jacket mumbling about the Reich.
I made my way down the hallway nodding here and there to the women lounging about in the dining area and kitchen. Grabbed my coat and made my way out into the brilliant chill of the night air. Edwards and Red blasted past me towards the 300 and forced me to ride the blazing eight blocks wedged tightly in the back. We flew up the thin roads so quickly that the flier plastered under the windshield barely fluttered.
"Everyone out," shouted Red as he dropped the seat forward. "The center of the American dream and the Uber nightmare. Re-pub."