Mark Tufo - Alive in a Dead World

There we three sat, laughing, and talking on our small blanket when this younger guy came across our path.

“Mushrooms?” he asked.

“Naw, man, we don’t have any,” I told him.

He looked at us a little funny, then must have realized we started partying a few hours ago. “No, I’ve got some,” he said.

I looked over at Paul. This had not been on the agenda at all. I turned to Dennis, who had no clue what was happening. He appeared to be checking out a sweet, little honey twirling around in a yellow sundress.

“Sure,” Paul said.

And then I thought something went wrong with the whole conversation, because the guy pulled out two Cadbury Easter Eggs from his knapsack.

My ever tactical self spoke up. “What the hell are those things?”

Paul paid him twenty dollars.

Dennis turned just as Paul got the eggs in hand. “Awesome man, I’m starving!” Dennis grabbed one from Paul’s hand and shoved the whole thing in his mouth. Paul started laughing. I was still confused.

“Hey, ris rastes funky,” Dennis said, still chewing.

“Here, wash it down with this,” Paul said, handing him a fresh drink.

Dennis gulped it down. “Where’d you get those? I think they were old or something.”

“Dude, you just dosed,” Paul said, still laughing.

“What?” I asked before Dennis could.

“The guy cooked up the mushrooms into the chocolate,” Paul explained.

“I just ate mushrooms?” Dennis asked, taking a large gulp of his drink and then turning back to watch the yellow sundress twirl.

“Shall we?” Paul asked, splitting the remaining egg in half.

“Why not?” I said shoving my piece into my mouth.

“Down the rabbit hole,” Paul said.

Twenty minutes later, there was very little that did not completely mesmerize me. Blades of grass became primordial jungles. The mountains were the great mountain barrier of the north that protected us from the hordes of Orcs that waited on the other side. The occasional cloud that drifted over became a message from the gods themselves. Dennis, at some point, had started to twirl with Yellow Sundress. It was funny trying to figure out which of them was further out there. By this time, stage hands had started some music through the PA system. I found myself encapsulated in the eclectic blend of music they played. Paul and I laughed at times so hard that tears would stream from our faces. I knew at least I was having a hard time keeping my equilibrium,

The sun, as if on cue, hid behind the tallest peak just as Widespread came onto the stage. Again, in retrospect, I’m sure the timing had more to do with the band than the sun, maybe. Yellow Sundress had at some point twirled away, possibly upwards. Dennis came back to share our small blanket as we grooved like only three middle-aged, white men can--horribly. But we didn’t care and nobody else did for that matter. We were havin’ a good time and that was what it was all about. At some point, the band or possibly a concert-goer told us that Widespread was going to play an extended show because the previous night had been cut short. That was fine with me. Anything that extended the magic of the night was A-okay!

We had not gotten as close to the stage as we would have liked, but we did at least try to get in as strategically placed an area as possible. We were immediately to the left of the soundstage. I did that on purpose so that we would have a point of reference to come back to. We were in a field with thousands of other people with no formal seating and we were wasted. Finding a particular person in that kind of environment is not the easiest thing to accomplish. Think Wal-Mart at Christmas time times ten.

After the first set break, there was the mass exodus to the portable toilets and the various food and beverage vendors. The johns were about a hundred and fifty yards straight back from us and the vendors were maybe two hundred yards back and to the left as we turned to look at them. Might as well have been five miles in the state we were in. Dennis volunteered to lay claim on the blanket while Paul and I made our way out to the head. I think he wanted to stay back because the task looked entirely too daunting when you looked over the sea of heads. I can’t say I blamed him. If I’d had the foresight to wear Depends and just go in my adult diapers, I would have. Don’t scoff at me!

There were lines, but they weren’t horrible. The worst part was tripping your trees off and then going into the small confines of a blue, plastic shell that smelled of piss and chemicals. Shit, yeah, that was the bad part. At one point, I thought I might be trapped by my bladder. If I had a watch, I think I might have set a world record for longest piss. I got so tired of standing, I leaned against the side. I will neither confirm nor deny that at some point, I might have missed the little side toilet. Give me a break! The thing is the size of a kidney, and I was swaying like I was in gale-force winds. At least, I didn’t get any on the ceiling to drip down on the next person.

I thankfully stumbled out from the head, now feeling like I had been reborn. Paul was nowhere in sight. I could tell I was still smiling from ear to ear because my cheeks were burning from the muscle contraction.

“You done, man?” someone asked, trying to get past me and into the toilet.

“What?” I said trying to focus on his/her face, I’m pretty sure it was a guy. That would be good because he’d understand about not being able to aim correctly. I still got out of there though before he maybe called me on it.

Even over the PA, I heard him. “Why is there piss all over the place? Am I stepping in piss?” he yelled, as I evacuated the area.

I gleefully headed over to the beer tent, because that sounded like just about the best thing on the planet. Still no Paul, but I was keeping myself some really good company.

“I would like three nectars of the gods,” I told the woman running the counter.

“You have ID?” she asked blandly, probably sick of listening to all the messed up people.

“I have three kids,” I told her. “Don’t you see all this white in my goatee? That’s from them.”

“I don’t care if you have three elephants, if I don’t see ID, you don’t get three beers.”

“Now three elephants would be pretty cool,” I told her as I gingerly went to the pocket that housed my wallet. At the best of times, when I am as sober as a newborn, I fear about losing my wallet or dropping contents out of it. So when I go out and know I’m going to be drinking, I keep it in a zippered or buttoned-up pocket and my OCD makes me touch that spot a good twenty times an hour to make sure that it hasn’t found a way out on its own. I will usually keep a twenty in my front right pants pocket for easy access with the added bonus of not having to take my wallet out.

“Do I really look nineteen?” I asked, trying to flirt my way out of getting my wallet out. I showed her the twenty.

She completely shut me down. “No, you don’t look nineteen at all, but I have to see everyone’s ID.”

“Your mellowing my high,” I mumbled as I grabbed my wallet.

“Just think how mellow it will be if you don’t get these beers,” she responded.

“You must have been a nun in another life,” I told her, trying my best to keep an eye on any errant articles from falling out of my wallet as I fished my driver’s license out.

“What makes you think it was a previous life?” she asked, grabbing my ID. Bitch didn’t even look at it as she handed it back. “Was that so hard?” she asked as she waited impatiently for me to put all the contents of my wallet back together and then try to find the twenty I had put back in a different pocket.

“You have no idea,” I told her as I briefly panicked until I located the wadded up bill.